


Never Give Up - High School AU

by orphan_account



Series: Avengers - High School [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - High School, Awesome Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Brian Banner's A+ Parenting, Bruce Banner Feels, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Bullying, Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Deadly Natasha, Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Flashbacks, Good Loki (Marvel), Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Laura Barton Does Not Exist, Loki and Thor are biological brothers, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Nick Fury Knows All, Nightmares, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Panic Attacks, Phil Coulson Has the Patience of a Saint, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Sharon and Peggy are cousins, Steve can't decide which cousin he wants to date, Suicide Attempt, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Traumatic Experiences, kidnappings, teenvengers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-06-27 10:12:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15683337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Avengers High School AU. Steve Rogers, Thor Odison, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff all have varying pasts, but all of them are dark and riddled by tragedy. They say they've moved on but have they really? Features Clintasha, Pepperony, Bretty, Fosterson and Staron or Steggy (I don't know which anymore, poor Steve doesn't either).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Avengers High School AU. Steve Rogers, Thor Odison, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff all have varying pasts, but all of them are dark and riddled by tragedy. They say they've moved on but have they really? 
> 
> Please note that this work has some triggering things. If you think you may be triggered be cautious.
> 
> Also Disclaimer: The Avengers aren't mine. If not Clintasha would be canon and Peggy would still be alive. Also movies on Hawkeye and Budapest would be in the works.

The day began as usual for Bruce; get up, get dressed, eat the burnt eggs his aunt made for him. After that he would check his homework over one last time before shouldering his backpack and beginning the long eight-mile trek to school from the tiny apartment he lived in at about 6:50.

However, today was a Monday which meant Bruce had to get to school earlier then usual; he had Science Club before school today, he didn't know whose idea it was to have a club before school but Bruce cursed them that morning. He had to wake up thirty minutes earlier which would already make him grumpy and his mind groggy, having to eat an especially bad egg that day only added to his mood. Plus he'd had a bad nightmare, or rather a bad memory, that night. He didn't remember what it was about but he was pretty sure that was for the best as he woke up at three o'clock AM screaming so loud that he woke up the neighbor's dog.

There was one upside though, it meant he got to discuss science with the only person who had a mind better than his own when it came to complex equations and chemicals, Tony Stark.

Tony stark was an ass, anybody could and would tell you that; however the cocky son of a billionaire wasn't that bad when you got to know him. Bruce was pretty sure that under all of his rather sketchy exterior, there was a soft, squishy teddy bear with an enormous crush on Pepper Potts.

So when Bruce noticed that Tony was absent from his seat that morning, he was understandably disappointed. After all, that meant he had to sit next to the only person who had an empty seat next to them, Justin Hammer.

If you thought Tony was bad, then you'd never met Justin. Justin was the son of a fairly rich man who had a significantly smaller company than Stark Industries (Tony's father's company) yet they claimed to be the rival of them. Justin was a stuck up know it all who was all talk and no doing. He was a bully and looked down on everybody thinking they were less than them, he thought he was above teacher's too. He questioned everything they did and would talk with his friends, loudly about how great "his" company was doing while the teacher was trying to talk. Bruce didn't even know why Hammer signed up for science club anyway, he wasn't interested in listening to directions or really learning anything he claimed to already know; in reality he really wasn't that smart.

Bruce opted to completely ignore the stuck-up and slightly disgusted look from Hammer and sat down, choosing to ignore the boy.

"Today we'll be doing a partner activity." began the teacher immediately.

Bruce was definitely going to kill Tony.

Tony didn't show up for the entirety of science club, by the end of the thirty minutes of the club Bruce usually enjoyed, Bruce was feeling extremely agitated and stressed out. He knew these weren't good signs, he had extreme anger management issues and a mixture of lack of sleep and agitation with a bit (well a lot) of stress on top made for the perfect recipe for an outburst. Bruce did not want that.

He made it through first period, English pretty fine and even caught up on a bit of lost sleep (Mr. Gonzalez could drone on all day and not notice if everybody left, people considered the class a joke and often just left to go to AMPM after making sure he checked them off the attendance). Second period though, History with Mr. Coulson almost caused one of his… incidents.

Mr. Coulson was a pretty intense teacher already, however when you added on a lost assignment and annoying classmates it was almost impossible to hold onto one's already bubbling to the surface anger. He was pretty sure that if it weren't for a classmate, Betty Ross, he wouldn't have been able to do it.

Betty was a very pretty girl, and smart too, she excelled in all her classes and Bruce was surprised she wasn't in science Club. She had pale skin and long dark brown hair with blue eyes. She was also one of Bruce's friends and had the rare ability to calm him down; she recognized the signs of the beginnings of one of his outbursts and had made a beeline for him and being the saint she was, didn't make a big deal. She simply muttered a few calming words in his ears and Bruce was able to calm.

Betty stayed by Bruce's side for the rest of the class period.

When lunch rolled around, Bruce couldn't be more relieved. He knew that Betty had a different lunch, so decided to meet up with his other friends; Thor Odinson, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. Normally Tony would sit with them as well but he was gone today, sometimes his friend Rhodey would also sit with them.

Bruce saw his group of friends and was mildly surprised when he saw Rhodey was sitting with them, maybe Tony's friend was growing on them. Bruce smiled at this and went to the table that their group occupied on a daily basis, it was in the back corner of the cafeteria and nobody else dared sit there if they didn't want to suffer Natasha's fierce glare. He sat in the empty seat between Steve and Rhodey.

"Hey Bruce!" Rhodey said in greeting,"Have you seen Tony?"

Bruce shook his head,"No, I'm pretty sure he's sick or something he wasn't at science club."

Rhodey groaned,"He wasn't here Friday either."

Bruce rolled his eyes and opened his mouth but before he could answer, a sarcastic response came from Clint,"Ya well we all know how Tony is, his nose is a tiny bit stuffy and he says he has a life threatening fever."

Steve and Rhodey snickered and a smile spread across Bruce's face.

"I'm sure he'll be here tomorrow, Rhodey." Steve said, taking a bite of yoghurt.

Rhodey nodded and decided to begin eating.

Bruce felt a yawn coming on and he rubbed his eyes, trying to stay awake but decided it was useless. He wasn't hungry anyway, he decided to put his elbows on the table and place his head down in them, there was some much needed sleep to catch up on.

Four-year old Bruce heard the familiar sound of the front door opening and couldn't help the sense of dread in his stomach. He recognized the stumbling downstairs and the slurred words coming from the mouth of Brian Banner.

Bruce whimpered, he didn't want the hurting to come back. He rubbed a bruise on his arm unconsciously and in a brief moment decided to hide under his bed, he knew he was good at hide and seek, he always beat mama at it. Hopefully he could beat daddy too, he knew daddy was good at hide and seek though because daddy always found him.

Maybe this time Bruce would win though? He hoped so. The four year old grabbed his teddy bear, a blanket and a pillow and placed them under his bed, deciding he would spend the night there. It wasn't the first time he'd done it, sometimes Daddy checked under the bed but sometimes he didn't.

Something was different tonight though, as Bruce lay on the cold wood floor, sucking his thumb and clutching his teddy bear close, there was a loud scream and bang then a thump.

Bruce frowned, that sounded like momma. The four-year-old felt a trickle of anger rise in him, Daddy couldn't hurt momma! Feeling a surge of bravery, Bruce got up from under the bed, opened his door and made his way into the hallway and down the stairs. Momma's scream sounded like it had come from the kitchen, so that's where Bruce went; Bruce frowned, he remembered Momma saying something about dinner.

Bruce made his way into the kitchen and immediately saw his father's back, a bottle with yellow stuff in it was in one hand and a black thing was in the other. Bruce frowned, whenever his Daddy was drinking the yellow stuff it meant he was mad, he didn't know what the black thing meant though.

The four-year-old shouted loudly,"Leave Momma alone, Daddy!"

Brian Banner turned around slowly and in a way that was sure to instill fear in a person. Bruce felt his resilience fading fast and suddenly he didn't feel very brave. Something that scared Bruce the most though was the yellow-toothed cheshire cat grin that made its way across his father's face.

Bruce gulped and said meekly,"Daddy?" where was Momma?

"It's too late for your mother." Brian said gleefully. Bruce felt a terrifying fear build up in him as his father pointed the black thing at his son, he was scared where was Momma? "And soon it will be for you too you little bastard".

There was another loud bang but this time it wasn't muffled by the floorboards in his room, Bruce suddenly felt an intense pain is his stomach and rivulets of red began to pour out of a hole in his stomach, Bruce desperately tried to stop the red from coming out of him. He fell to his knees and looked pleadingly at his father who did nothing but let out a gleeful laugh. As his vision began to grow dark, Bruce lay on the floor and he saw a pair of glassed-over unseeing eyes staring at him lifelessly. His mother's eyes.

"Bruce! Bruce! Bruce!" Bruce awoke to a desperate shaking of his shoulder and opened his eyes, half-expecting to see the malicious grin of his father. He flinched away and looked toward the owner and saw a concerned looking Steve Rogers peering anxiously at him.

"You were having a nightmare, are you alright?" Steve asked in concern. Bruce shrank in his seat at the concerned looks from almost everybody at the table.

"'M fine." Bruce muttered, avoiding their eyes. He remembered what he'd dreamed about last night. It was then that he remembered, the day was coming up, only this weekend. The day his father had murdered and almost murdered his wife and son. Bruce moved one hand to a patch of rough skin in the shape of a circle where he'd been shot twelve years ago.

He wondered, not for the first time why his mother had died while he lived? It wasn't fair, why had his father aimed for the head and then only the stomach. Bruce moved a hand down his face to try and calm himself. He already knew he wouldn't be able to make it through the rest of the day though, even with Betty or another's help.

"I've gotta go." he muttered to his friends, before making a beeline towards the main office, he hoped his Aunt would pick up. Then again, she seemed to know better then Bruce did when he needed help. Melinda May, the office lady seemed knew what he needed from his past visits and simply nodded at Bruce and then at the phone on the other side of the office. Bruce gave her a grateful nod before heading towards the older black phone that was connected by wire to the wall. He quickly typed in his Aunt's number before picking up the phone and listening anxiously.

There were only two beeps before there was the concerned voice of his Aunt,"Hello?" she asked.

"Aunt Lisa."

Aunt Lisa seemed to know what was going on simply by the tone of his voice,"You need me to pick you up?" she said, though it was more of a statement then a question.

Bruce swallowed thickly,"Ya."

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

There was a resounding click then a long beep signifying the end of the call.

"When will she pick you up?" Ms. May asked.

"Ten minutes." Bruce muttered.

The office employee nodded before handing Bruce a piece of paper, paperwork to get out of school. Why was there so much paperwork everywhere? Bruce simply sighed and filled out everything except his Aunt's signature of course.

When Lisa Banner arrived at the school, she signed the bottom of the paper all to familiarly before handing it to Ms. May and putting a comforting arm around Bruce's shoulder as they made there way to the car.

 

\------

 

Steve was concerned when Bruce left early that day. Steve was the first one to recognize that Bruce was having a nightmare, cold sweat had begun to break out on Bruce's face, the part of it that was visible at least. After that he had begun moving his head in the sleep and whimpering. Steve, having experience with nightmares, knew that it was best to wake him up if his nightmares were as terrifying as his own. He felt sympathetic as he gazed into Bruce's wild and pain filled eyes and wondered, not for the first time what had made Bruce the way he was.

When Steve had first arrived at Marvel High for his first year of High School, he was curious about a number of students, including Thor, Tony and Bruce (Natasha and Clint had moved to Marvel High later). Tony was interesting because… well he was Tony, a genius already having skipped to grades was only twelve years old and he had a billionaire father, who wasn't interested? Thor was interesting with a Norway accent and he was loud, tall and buff though Steve later learned there was more to him then just that. Finally there was Bruce, Bruce was quiet, extremely quiet. So quiet in fact that Steve had at first thought he was a mute, if it weren't for him answering questions during class.

During Lunch he either slept, read books or worked on complicated looking math equations from his challenge math class. He sat alone at a table in the corner of the lunch room. He also seemed to know everything, he was the closest match to Tony Stark he could find and though Tony was better at Bruce in Science and Math (because come on, he was Tony Stark) Bruce was better, by a very narrow margin at History then Tony and they were even matched in English. Tony seemed to like the challenge and competing but it was obvious Bruce didn't, he let Tony answer the questions and always made sure to raise his hand a fraction of a second after Tony. Steve was pretty sure that nobody else noticed these things but he was known for being able to pick up on things nobody else noticed. Maybe that was why he was so good at sketching.

One day, instead of sitting with his Tony and Thor (He had made friends with them by then) he decided to sit next to Bruce who appeared to be slaving away at science homework. Steve glimpsed the title of the essay he appeared to be writing and frowned at the words "Gamma Radiation" but made no comment.

Bruce didn't seem to notice him until he looked up to check the time when he saw Steve and startled so badly that he would've fallen out of his chair if Steve hadn't caught him. Steve himself nearly fell over due to his rather tiny body and muscles. To this day Steve had not yet hit a growth spurt and his muscles remained as measly as ever, he'd like to say that he didn't mind but he was a bit self conscious about it. He said a bit but he meant extremely so.

Bruce had eyed him warily and scooted a bit away from him and Steve had offered half of his sandwich to Bruce as he appeared to have no lunch of his own and he was as skinny as a rake. Bruce had hesitantly accepted the sandwich but hadn't taken a bite of it. Tony and Thor looked at Steve in annoyance but later that day he explained that he was trying to "recruit" another friend. Tony's eyebrows had raised but he said,"It'd be nice to be able to talk to somebody intelligent for once." in his normal sarcastic manner and Steve accepted the blow for himself and Thor and took that as Tony's acceptance. Thor had simply seemed thrilled at the thought of a new friend.

Steve continued to sit with Bruce at lunch for the next three weeks, offering half his sandwich Bruce never took a bite and neither spoke until the fourth week when Steve saw Bruce take a tiny nibble off the end of the turkey sandwich. He considered this a win and was happy-go-lucky the whole day and his mother was so concerned at his mood change that she asked him if he was ill.

Eventually Bruce began consuming the entire half a sandwich and started talking, if only a tiny bit to Steve and according to Tony, on the days Steve was sick Bruce would look slightly disappointed.

After almost five months, Steve even got Bruce to sit with Tony and Thor. He was very quiet and first but once Tony got him started on physics and other nerdy-science terms that Steve couldn't remember, Bruce was a chatterbox. Pretty soon the four of them: Tony, Thor, Steve and Bruce had become the best of friends and a tight knit group, every weekend they'd stay at Steve's house (Tony said his father wouldn't allow it, Bruce's apartment was too small and he didn't want to bug his Aunt and Thor said his younger brother would bug them). Eventually a red haired Russian and her protective sandy-haired companion would join the group a year later.

Steve saw that being quiet was not Bruce's first nature and saw that even when he was with his friends, the people he probably trusted the most (apart from his Aunt), he remained guarded and some days would remain quiet.

Steve supposed they all had their days, when Bruce was upset he would be quiet and there would be anger bubbling at the surface and sometimes he would lash out (and Steve would tell you that no matter how scrawny Bruce was he could pack a punch).

Tony would come to school and wouldn't talk to anybody, on those days he sat apart from the rest of the group, alone and would work on designs for Stark Industries.

Even Thor got upset sometimes, when that happened he would spend time with his girlfriend, Jane Foster and simply seek comfort from her; Steve wished that Thor knew he could get comfort from them too but accepted that Jane was pretty much a psychiatrist in disguise, she was good at taking care of people.

Natasha and Clint were the most concerning for when they had their moods. During his free time, Clint would go to the archery range even when he wasn't supposed to and shoot at the target without arm guards until his arms were bleeding. He had a dark look in his eyes that honestly scared Steve, they weren't the eyes of a friend but reminded Steve of another person and an incident that was too painful to remember. Natasha wouldn't show up to school, however the next day when she came back, no matter how much makeup she used, Steve and Steve alone could identify the red puffiness under her eyes from crying. The thought of Natasha Romanoff crying was the most unnerving thing that Steve could think of.

As for himself, Steve would try to act like everything was normal, try to be passive because what had happened was in the past. Some days he couldn't keep up the facade though and those days he would have panic attacks and/or asthma attacks.

Steve was worried for Bruce. He never liked it when Bruce left school early, it meant that he was leaving the school for the safety of others. However, Steve decided; people always thought of the damage Bruce would do to other people when angry, but, Steve wondered, did they ever think about the damage that Bruce possibly could do to himself?

Steve decided that he was going to check up on Bruce, it was his duty as a friend to do so.

Steve couldn't wait to get out of class, sixth period was almost over and he kept a worried eye on the clock as he tapped his fingers against the desk in anticipation. Could the bell just ring? Despite normally finding Mr. Blake's lectures on politics interesting, Steve couldn't be more anxious for the bell to ring.

Steve wondered if maybe he should check in on Tony as well, maybe he was actually sick; according to Bruce he'd missed science club so he must really sick because Tony had never missed science club, believe it or not. The teacher must be proud of themselves for making Tony Stark interested in something.

Steve decided in the end that ya, he should check on Tony as well; Tony was closest so he would visit Stark Tower first before visiting Bruce.

Despite never staying overnight at Tony's, the security staff seemed to know Steve all too well and let him pass without a question. When he questioned one of the housekeepers they said that Tony was up in his room. Nodding, Steve went up the stairs, made his way to Tony's room and knocked.

There was a loud curse and some stumbling before the door creaked open and Steve saw half of his friends face, squinting at him,"Steve." Tony said in greeting.

Tony opened the rest of the door, allowing Steve into the billionaire's large but extremely cluttered room. His bed was unmade with a series of books and DVD's stacked on it, a wooden desk on the other side of the room had a mess of papers and pens and the floor was riddled with parts of half-made inventions and diagrams. Steve was careful to try and avoid stepping on anything but still managed to do so and he was lucky his foot didn't start bleeding.

Tony rolled his eyes, Steve noticed heavy bags under them, and sat down gingerly in a very un-Tony like fashion on his bed. Tony rubbed at his ribs and stifled a yawn as he asked,"Any particular reason your here? I'm sick can't you see I'm suffering?"

A smile quirked at Steve's lips but nonetheless he shook his head,"Just checking up on you, you've gotta be pretty sick if you missed Science Club; I think Bruce is gonna kill you. Apparently he had to sit by Justin Hammer."

Tony frowned,"I pity anybody who is within a hundred mile radius of Hammer for more then five seconds."

Steve snorted.

"Yes well, I'm sure Bruce would agree with you there. Speaking of which he had one of his nightmares today."

Tony moved from his laid back attitude and position to a worried stance in record time, not matter how uncaring the teenager acted, Steve knew he had a heart somewhere.

"How bad?" Tony asked, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Bad enough that he had to leave school."

Tony sighed,"Are you going to visit him anytime soon? I imagine that if you check on me because I'm sick that after this your on your way to his apartment."

Steve simply nodded.

"Good." Tony said, picking himself up and wincing before putting a hand to his ribs (did he have walking pneumonia or something? What was hurting his ribs?),"I'm coming too."

Steve knew the matter wasn't up for discussion.

"Can you by any chance get your driver to take us?" Steve asked, he didn't feel inclined to walk ten miles.

"Sorry." Tony muttered,"Dad took away my privileges, he's trying to keep me in the house so I can finish another one of those damn weapons. We'll probably have to slip past security as it is."

Steve frowned, wondering what the younger Stark had done to make Howard Stark enforce such measures but didn't question it, simply filing the piece of information away for later use; he didn't no what use exactly but sometimes his mind was faster then he could keep up with so he accepted it.

"Where do we want to try and get out?" Steve asked.

Tony smiled at Steve before moving toward the open window by his room. Steve groaned.

Steve and Tony somehow, miraculously managed to sneak by the ridiculous amount of security guards unnoticed and made their way toward Bruce's house, Tony had begun the trip by cracking jokes and making funny faces; however as the time kept on, Tony was beginning to look pale and was talking less and wheezing more, a hand was clutched around his ribs.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Steve asked again, he felt slightly guilty about dragging Tony along (even though, technically Tony had dragged himself along).

"'Mm fine." Tony insisted,"How… How much longer till we get to Bruce's?"

"Only two more miles." Steve said, eyeing Tony uneasily.

"Really… Really starting to pity him… y'know having to walk this much… every… every morning." Tony attempted to joke, adding a weak grin at the end.

"What sickness do you have exactly?" Steve asked with a raised eyebrow, he was starting to wonder if Tony was actually sick or if he'd gotten into another fight and done damage to his ribs.

"Uhhh… GERD?"

"What's GERD?" Steve asked.

"Umm… stands for Gastroesophageal Reflex Disease." Tony said,"I think."

"Right." Steve said, shaking his head, he didn't know what half of those words meant but, then again he didn't understand a lot of things that came out of Tony's mouth; he was sure he wasn't the only one though, Pepper could go on and on until the end of the universe about Tony Stark (and not in a good way).

They walked in silence (apart from Tony's seriously concerning wheezing) for the rest of the time and eventually found themselves at Bruce's apartment complex. Steve hadn't thought this part over, there were very large amounts of people who probably lived here and Steve had only ever dropped Bruce off once or twice here. Of all of the apartments he was unsure of which was Bruce's.

He was only slightly surprised when Tony nonchalantly kept on walking forward.

"You know which one's, Bruce's." Steve guessed.

"We do our science projects here." was Tony's response.

Steve frowned, from what he understood, Bruce's apartment that he shared with his aunt was pretty small and he couldn't really picture Tony spending time at such a place when there was his own huge bedroom and mansion with all of the tech in the world.

"Are you coming or not?" Tony snapped when he realized that Steve was staring at him in puzzlement.

"Ya." Steve said, shaking himself out of his thoughts and following the billionaire, asking himself about the mystery that was Tony Stark.

Bruce's apartment was one towards the bottom of the complex, so much so that the apartment itself was half underground and Steve felt bad, he pitied anyone who lived in apartment, he lived in one for 14 years up until two years earlier when his mother had earned enough money to buy a nice enough house; however it seemed Bruce had the worst apartment that Steve could think of.

Tony knocked on the door and crossed his arms across his chest, seeming to ignore his wheezing ribs as he tapped a foot impatiently against the floor.

About 20 seconds later, a very tired looking Bruce Banner opened the door. His expression scared Steve at first, he looked tired and his hair was raggedy in a way it hadn't been earlier that day, his eyes looked haunted and guarded, however they brightened every so slightly when he saw his two friends.

"Tony, Steve what are you doing here?" he asked with a tired but pleased tone.

"Checking up on you." Steve said,"After you left I got worried."

"And you made the mistake of telling Tony, who of course dragged his sick ass out of bed to come check up on me." Bruce said dryly and with no emotion.

Steve felt a great surprise at first and then had to fight the instinct to say "Language!" and Tony looked slightly insulted.

Bruce cracked a tired looking grin and opened the door a little wider,"Come on in. You can't stay that long, Aunt Lisa should get home in about thirty minutes."

Tony didn't seem to acknowledge what Bruce said, only that the door was open and a very comfortable looking couch was right behind Bruce. Steve couldn't help but laugh lightly when Tony collapsed on the couch and let out a mighty sigh of contentment.

Bruce simply shook his head fondly before turning to Steve,"Coffee?"

Steve didn't want to be rude (personally he hated coffee but nobody needed to know that) so nodded,"Yes, thank you."

Bruce nodded and veered to the left, as Steve took a step into the apartment he realized that it was the kitchen. Seeing as Tony was sprawled out across the couch, Steve took a seat in the armchair adjacent to it.

While waiting on Bruce and Tony looking as though he was trying to fall asleep, Steve decided to take in Bruce's apartment. It seemed rather small and looked as though it might have once been very unfriendly but it seemed Bruce and his Aunt had made the tiny flat very home-y.

There were pictures of Bruce adorning the walls as well as a coffee table with an inexpensive yet workable television on top of it. A laptop was plugged into an outlet and charging, resting close to where Tony's head on the couch was. Apart from that, there was a soft carpet and bookshelves crammed with loose papers, books (of course) and maps as well as… dirty socks? The windows that had obviously not been built right, were half showing the concrete around Bruce's partially underground home as well as a bit of green grass and you could see people's feet rushing by.

An old records player sat haphazardly on a large pile of books on one side table and Steve was very careful not to go near it, it looked antique.

The kitchen was connected directly with the living/entrance room and was an average country sort of kitchen, magnets and more photo's were on the fridge and a jar labeled "Cookies" sat on the counter. Bruce was making coffee with a worn out looking coffee maker as he reached into one of the overhead cupboards.

Apart from that there was a small hallway with three doors that presumably led to the bathroom, Bruce's room and his Aunt's room. A furnace was at the end of the hallway and (more!?) dirty socks were laying on it.

As Steve finished taking in the apartment, he realized that Bruce was heading back towards them, balancing three coffee's on an unsteady tray. He was about to get up and help when Bruce managed to put the tray down on the coffee table before settling into the tiny space between Tony's feet and the couch arm. Tony muttered a few questionable words under his breath before snuggling back into the couch.

"Are you feeling any better?" Steve asked, tilting his head to the side,"That was a pretty bad nightmare."

Bruce took a sip of the coffee, paused and looked at it with a furrowed brow, he was quiet for a while before finaling saying,"Ya… ya I guess. Aunt Lisa calmed me down."

Steve nodded,"Good."

There was a long silence until eventually Tony's snores began to become audible.

"You know." Steve said, scratching his neck awkwardly,"We're always here… you know, if you need to talk to somebody… we can - I can, help too."

Bruce looked down at his coffee cup pensively and simply nodded.

Steve chewed his lip at the awkward silence and decided to change the subject, however before he did Bruce spoke instead.

"I do appreciate it though."

Steve looked up in surprise, seeing Bruce's uncomfortable yet determined look,"I didn't have any friends before you guys." he confessed,"And it's been a lot better, I can make friends now and I know I can trust you guys… and you guys try to help me...that's something I never had before. So… thanks."

Steve nodded,"Of course, Bruce. All of us can and will be there for you, all you need to do is just ask."

Bruce swallowed and nodded, still peering at his cup.

Steve risked a glance at the clock,"I guess we should be going then." he said with a frown, looking at Tony's sleeping form.

Bruce simply nodded, frowning at the two other coffee's that were untouched. Steve felt bad and picked up his, took a sip, hid a grimace before setting it back down and started to shake Tony awake.

The billionaire groaned in his sleep and his brow furrowed and lashed out at Steve.

"Come on Tony." Steve said,"You can sleep as soon as you get to your house."

"But it's ten miles away!" Tony whined into the cushion of the couch.

"You'll live." Steve said, attempting to hoist Tony to his feet, however, being as small as Steve was, it backfired and both Tony and Steve ended up falling onto the floor and were extremely lucky not to hit their heads, however Steve managed to land right onto Tony's ribs. The billionaire let out a sharp cry of pain and moved a hand to his ribs.

Steve got up right away, feeling bad but confused, if Tony was just sick then if he fell on his ribs then it shouldn't be this bad, as he exchanged a look with Bruce, he could tell the other boy felt very much the same way.

Tony remained on the floor for almost a minute, his eyes shut tightly and breathing heavily as he held to his ribs tightly.

"What aren't you telling us?" Steve heard himself ask.

Tony ignored Steve and pushed himself up off the floor,"I'll see you later, Bruce." the rich boy said before his hunched over form walked out of the apartment door. As he did, Steve shared a worried look with Bruce before jogging to keep up with Tony.

Tony didn't say a word the entire walk and didn't even say goodbye to Steve as he made his way back to Stark Tower, presumably to sneak back in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not Mine
> 
> A/N: If certain things trigger you, please see the end notes for things to look out for.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief when he made it back to his room undetected. He could only imagine how that would go, if Howard had found out he snuck out… he shook his head at this thought, he didn’t have time to worry about what-if’s, only what was. Besides, if he didn’t finish the latest designs given to him he would have a reason to worry.

Sighing, the teenage genius made his way toward his polished oak desk that was drowning in random pieces of papers including homework due three years ago, numbers from girls that got lost, old mail, pages that he ripped out of his books (he was excited okay?) and Stark Industries Designs. 

Tony wondered to himself if he should actually take Jarvis’s advice and sort through his papers; but quickly swatted that thought away. It would get very cluttered very fast anyway, what would the point be?

It took him a bit longer than he appreciated, but Tony found his designs soon enough and frowned to himself as he studied them; they were models for a new Stark phone that would really make Justin Hammer simmer. Tony grinned and set to work.

Tony’s job was to examine the design and add in any tips, tricks and fixes that could be seen, often these changes were what made Stark phones more attractive and high-demand than others, like Hammer Phones. Tony made a few messy notes on the blueprints, circling and drawing lines as he looked over the design almost three times before satisfied. After finishing this, he began to work on one of the weapon’s that his father wanted him to upgrade, it was due tomorrow so he couldn’t waste any time. 

Tony was almost finished when he looked over at his clock for the first time since starting on the designs, he groaned when he realized the time was past three in the morning. Since Tony also had insomnia that meant it would take awhile to get to sleep anyway, so he could probably bet on an hour of sleep at the most. 

It was frustrating, simply lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the exhaustion weigh you down but being able to do nothing. Tony was a tinkerer, and he spent his sleepless nights tinkering away. He couldn’t stay still for very long, probably that was why he was always tired.

He’d tried pills but those had messed him up in the head and he’d ended up having to take more and more medicine that succeeded in making him absolutely miserable. He even ended up with antidepressants towards the end of that very fun period of time.

Tony wasn’t surprised when his wandering mind couldn’t take the restlessness after fifteen minutes, he thrust his legs over the bed and got down on his hands on knees to work on one of his AI’s in progress, he was calling this one Friday. Monday through Thursday had all ended up blowing up in his face so hopefully this would be different.

Tony sighed to himself and wondered why this seemed to happen every night. He’d seen the worried looks basically everyone gave him on schoolground, he had bags under his eyes, he hadn’t slept in over three days. Usually around the fourth day he would mercifully pass out but even then he was often awoken by nightmares.

Tony wondered off handedly if Rhodey was up at this hour; however four sent messages and a half-hour of waiting later pointed at negative. After while, Tony got bored of working with Friday, like he said he’d been doing Monday through Thursday and doing the same thing over and over again could get boring.

Instead the young genius decided to focus his skills into reading the latest small manual he’d gotten, given to him by Jarvis’s wife, Ana. It was a knitting manual. Yes, Tony Stark was trying to learn how to knit. It was easy and something to keep his mind occupied when he was too stressed out or sleep deprived to do anything mechanically related, at least that’s what he hoped.

However, knitting manual’s turned out to be very confusing and frustrating, by five fifty seven he had ended up with a bunch of string knotted together in the wrong places, some pieces hadn’t joined at all and were all over his floor.

Sighing in frustration, Tony leaned back onto his bed and absentmindedly tapped on his bed stand. If he was going to feel any better, he needed coffee. Not to stay awake, his brain wasn’t going to let him sleep anytime soon, but to make him less drowsy. 

\-------

An hour later and Jarvis was knocking on his door.

“Sir, it’s time to get up.”

Tony sighed dramatically into his pillow before shouting his reluctant agreement and hoisting himself up. Howard would only let him have one day off for his ribs. He had to rewrap them today, his mind hastily reminded him.

Sighing, Tony went into the bathroom and took off his shirt, grimacing in the mirror at the sight of the bandages and multiple scars on his torso. He winced as he carefully pulled off the bandage and threw it in the wastebasket before taking out the roll from his first aid kit and began to rewrap them.

He’d been doing this for ten years, since he was four years old, it was honestly sad if you thought about it. Ana had given him his kit when he was eight. Most of the time Howard never drew blood, mostly only bruises and an occasional sprained joint, but if those were to severe he had to wrap them anyway.

The last beating Tony was pretty sure his ribs had been bruised, breathing hurt like hell and moving was as though somebody was hammering as hard as they could against his respiratory system.

After finishing with his ribs, as well as putting on a small amount of makeup as some that he’d but on a bruise on his jaw had faded away, Tony was ready for breakfast and coffee.

Just as Tony got to the table though, his Stark Watch started beeping. Tony hit his head repeatedly against the table. He had taken too long, that was the alarm on his watch for when he had to leave. 

“Would you like me to get you a few nutrition bars, sir?” Jarvis, his savior asked.

“Yeah, thanks Jarvis.”

Jarvis nodded,”I’ve packed your lunch as well, sir.”

“Thanks Jarvis.” Tony said again, once again his saving grace. Believe it or not, he didn’t want to be late to school despite how boring some classes were. He wanted to make sure Bruce was OK before he avoided him and Steve for the rest of the day; he didn’t want to talk about ‘the incident’. Tony was just too tired for that. 

\-----------------

A few minutes later, Tony was being driven to his school in a silent limousine. The driver had strict orders not to communicate with him so most car rides were silent, unless Tony was feeling rebellious and played rock music as loud as possible. He noticed that when he did that the driver tensed up and his hands grew tighter on the steering wheel, the longer he kept it on the redder the driver’s face was.

Today though, he chose to ride in silence, he was starting to get a headache and wanted to lay down, not sleep, but rest his aching head. He didn’t want to be on time as much as he had earlier in the day.

The school was only a short ride away from where Tony’s mansion of a home was though, so before he could get comfortable the driver alerted Tony that they had arrived. Nodding and thanking the driver in a not-so-thankful tone, Tony exited the car and glared at the letters labeled on the school reading “Marvel High”. It was a stupid name, anyone who went here would do anything but marvel at the high school. It was run down, old and had basically zero funding from city council.

Principal Fury was, according to the rumors, getting some donations though. He apparently could be very persuasive when he needed to be. Tony definitively didn’t like the sound of that and he didn’t like the guy either. Because since he was Tony Stark, of course he’d been sent to the Principal’s office. To this day Tony didn’t understand why ‘pal’ was in principal.

Tony stopped glaring however when he noticed Thor by the entrance of the school, accompanied by Darcy Lewis and his girlfriend, Jane.

“Hey Thor.” Tony greeted as he walked up to them.

Thor grinned and shouted out in a booming voice,”Hello friend Stark! How are you this fine morn!”

”I’m doing great Sparkles, as are you I’m guessing. I mean how could you not be with as fine company as you have right now.”

Tony waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Jane and Darcy.

An eye roll from Jane and a distrustful look from Darcy, (not to mention her lowering her hand towards her pocket where Tony bet she kept her taser) was exactly the response they gave and he expected.

“Your loss.” He said with a grin before turning to Thor,”Anyone else here yet? Bruce, Rogers, Barton, Romanov… Rhodey?”

“Sam’s here.” Jane responded after Thor shook his head.

“Hmm.” was all Tony said in response, he had nothing wrong with Sam, but he wasn’t primarily Tony’s friend, he was mostly Steve’s friend and just hung out with the rest of the gang sometimes. Rhodey and Sam were friends but Tony hadn’t shared more than a few sentences with the latter teen.

Tony decided to sit with Thor as he ate his nutrigrain bars, only half-listening to his conversation with the girls. It was something about the school football team that Thor was a quarterback on. Tony wasn’t really interested. He tried to act like he was listening though.

“It was not a fair deed!” Thor cried suddenly,”Stark, do you agree with me?”

Tony turned his gaze away from the nutrigrain wrapper he wasn’t sure why he’d been reading,”Uh ya. Mhmm. I’m with you completely buddy.”  
Thor smiled brightly,”It is now clear that the deed was not fair.”

“It’s still two to two.” Darcy muttered, Jane was rolling her eyes fondly.

\-------------------

A few minutes later Romanov and Barton arrived. Romanov had a hashbrown in her hand and Barton was looking at his phone as he sipped on what Tony guessed was soda. Even though Barton was on his phone though, Tony could see that he was scanning the entire perimeter, as was Romanov.

It was something that both friends did everytime they entered a room, Barton especially. Romanov always wanted to be close to a window and Barton refused to sit anywhere with his back turned to the door. It hadn’t always been noticeable as they were so inconspicuous about it, but over time Tony noticed the consistent pattern. It was definitely curious to say the least.

Everytime Tony had approached either about it though, he was, by Romanov, ignored for weeks and Barton would get extremely defensive and never miss a chance to glare or give a biting remark for a week or so. Then he as well would ignore Tony.

It wasn’t a very healthy friendship dynamic so Tony didn’t tend to ask anymore. He still whined and complained though.

“How come you get McDonald’s every morning.” Tony moaned,”All I get are nutrigrain bars.”

“I have my own car and get up at a respectable hour.” was Barton’s amused response.

“But you always get Romanov something.” Tony moaned.

“Correction.” Natasha cut in,”He picks me up, I get myself something.”

Tony rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath,”Favoritism.” before finishing his last bite of breakfast.

“So, do you know if Bruce is coming back today?” Romanov asked.

“Is that a hint of concern, I hear Romanov?” Tony said playfully.

“Answer the question, Stark.” Romanov said, Tony could tell from her tone that she meant business, he also knew that despite Natasha’s supposed coldness she did have a heart, you just needed to get over the the wall she’d built to protect herself and she was concerned.

Tony only knew one person who she let see that side of her though, and that was Barton. They frustrated Tony constantly too, because they were oblivious that they would make the perfect couple. Even though both of them always insisted they were just friends.

However his thoughts and Romanov’s question faded away when Tony noticed the familiar worn-out looking Bruce Banner walking towards them, he seemed tired but he was giving them an honest smile.

“Hey guys.”

“Bruce.” Tony said, tersely, his most recent visit to the Banner Apartment replayed inside his head,”How are you feeling?”

Bruce smiled at him, a reassuring and sincere look in his eyes, Tony realized as he looked into them that Bruce was happy to ignore what had happened, so long as he repaid him the same favor. Bruce had had nightmares for as long as Tony had known him, they didn’t act up very often but when they did… they could cause a potential incident.

Tony didn’t remember what Bruce had called his… condition, but if the sixteen year old got too stressed out, scared or angry, he would lash out. Actually, that was an understatement. He would go crazy. 

Tony had been present for two of these ‘incidents’ but Banner had gone a year without them, and Tony hoped that the record would hold. The first time Bruce had, as Tony eloquently put it “Hulked-out” had been in the school cafeteria. Nobody at this point had known about Bruce’s condition.

Bruce had only joined the group (which at that time only consisted of Steve, Thor and Tony himself sometimes Sam and Rhodey would show up as well) about a month prior. He had seemed exhausted that day, and had been rubbing his temples, absolutely pouring over his physics book for an upcoming test. Tony bet he’d already known all the information, but Bruce always studied himself to death no matter how well he knew the topic. 

Tony had made the mistake of teasing and poking fun at Bruce, Bruce had asked Tony to stop what he had multiple times but Tony being the idiot of a genius that he was, hadn’t listened. Eventually Banner’s eyes had stopped scanning the page and instead were glaring murderously at the wood of the table, his fists clenching together. 

Tony had poked the other teen and asked why he’d stopped reading; that was when Banner lost it. He’s just… exploded. Banner ripped Tony’s arm from him, much to the immense shock of everybody at the table and tackled him to the ground, knocking his book down as he did. He’d then proceeded to give Tony a bloodied nose, broken Jaw and bruised collarbone, as well as spraining Steve’s arm when the blonde had tried to pull him away from Tony. 

At this point students were gasping and teacher’s were rushing towards the scene, Bruce had flipped the lunch table over and it had narrowly missed hitting wide-eyed Darcy Lewis. It had taken five teachers to get Bruce off of Tony. 

At this point, the details had gone foggy though, as Tony had started to go into a full-blown panic attack. He felt as though he couldn’t breathe and had ended up passing out. He had woken up two hours later in the nurse’s office. It turned out later that Bruce hadn’t remember anything.

The second incident hadn’t been anywhere near as bad. Tony had gone over to Bruce’s to do their latest project on Gamma Radiation (one of the few things that Bruce knew better than Tony) however he had arrived late and watched speechless at the doorway as Bruce’s Aunt dodged things thrown at her by her own nephew as she called out soothing words. Eventually Lisa Barton had calmed Bruce down enough and had him sit down on one of the armchairs; Tony had seen the moment that psycho-Banner had gone to Bruce, realization had shocked through his eyes and a few seconds after he had asked how bad it had been this time.

After that, Tony had quietly slipped away, texting a short message to Bruce on his Stark Phone that something had come up suddenly and that he was very sorry but he couldn’t come over tonight. He figured Bruce needed space.

However, when he saw the familiar scrawny shape of Steve Rogers, Tony quietly slipped away from his friends. Perhaps Romanov had taught him a thing or two, because the only ones who seemed to notice him leaving were the ever-alert Barton and Natasha.

Barton had given him a small, hardly noticeable nod and Natasha’s eyes had simply watched him for a small frame of time before returning back to Bruce whom she’d started talking to. It seemed that Romanov trusted Barton enough to watch both his and her back’s because Clint continued to watch Tony.

It wasn’t obvious unless you knew what to look for though, and having been friends with the sandy-haired boy for over two years now, Tony could see it.

However, the fact that Romanov and Barton both felt inclined to need to watch their backs around Tony simply made him frustrated. Because that meant they didn’t trust him. He’d been their friend for years and had shown no sign of doing anything malicious to his knowledge. 

He felt that he shouldn’t take personal offense at this but couldn’t help it, even though neither seemed to trust anyone other than each other completely.

Tony sighed and tried to shove the thought to the back of head, though doubted it would stay there for long. His narcissistic mind had a way of pushing negative and snarky thoughts and comments to the front of his brain and the tip of his tongue. He blamed his father for those genes. 

\--------------------------------------

Thor hummed to himself as he made his way down the hallway, today had already been a marvelous day. To begin it, he’d had a fine breakfast of eggs and bread served by his mother; after that he’d been driven to school where he had met up with Jane. Jane always made him happy and today was no exception. 

Not only that but he had also met up with Jane’s amusing friend Darcy Lewis, and was joined by his friend’s Tony, Clinton, Natasha, Bruce and Steve (though after Steve had arrived friend Tony had disappeared somewhere).

After that he’d had some of his favorite classes, bumped into Heimdall and had a good football practice. Right now he was heading back down the hallways as he’d forgotten to grab his textbooks at the end of the day; luckily a teammate had reminded him so he had gone back for them. 

Even better, after this was the traditional movie/sleepover night at Steve’s house they had every Friday. Thor wasn’t sure what movie they were watching, but was certain that there would be a big debate over it, as there always was. 

Tony would probably want some sort of James Bond sort of a movie either that or Star Wars, Barton would want to watch the Lord of the Rings Saga and Natasha would name some horrific movie that gave everybody nightmares for weeks. Rhodey and Sam were also showing up and would probably side with Tony as they had similar tastes. 

Thor himself didn’t have much of a preference, Steve and Bruce didn’t either as neither showed much of a preference for what they were watching. Steve didn’t really like television anyway, but he did enjoy spending time with his friends so agreed to watch a movie every Friday; at least that’s what he’d told the group.

So, in short Thor was in a good mood. At this point, Thor had been able to pick up his bag and had slung it over his shoulder, walking back down the corridor towards the door. But then he’d heard it. Something too familiar and close to home for him to ignore. The sound of a fist hitting flesh.

Immediately his good mood deflated. Thor stopped in the hallway and listened again for the sound, sure enough he heard the smacking. Following the source, Thor began to backtrack and eventually he grew close enough to hear whimpering. 

Thor clenched and unclenched a fist as he stepped around the corner, ready to take down whatever bully had dared to lay a hand on the weaker and take advantage. What he hadn’t expected when he turned the corner, was to see the attacker beating their fists down, three thugs behind him, cheering him on; cheering him on to beat the living daylights out of one Bruce Banner.

\-----------------------------

Another hit. Another punch. Another kick. Nothing that Bruce wasn’t used to. He supposed that since his father was gone and he hadn’t had an outburst in a long time, the world had gone too long without punishing him.

Tomas and his friends had been tormenting Bruce for about four months by now; waiting by his locker after school, waiting to beat him in the corridors once empty. They’d knock books out of his hands while he was walking in the hallways alone, they’d even blamed some of their “pranks” on him and he’d end up with detention because Tomas’s father was a very rich man and didn’t want his son in trouble. 

Hit, punch, kick. Hit, punch, kick. Hit, punch, kick. The endless cycle of his life. Suddenly there was a sharp pain to his nose, unlike the duller pains he’d been feeling all over his body. A warm sticky liquid began to pour over the teenager’s face and crimson stained his green button-up. He tasted metal.

Hit, punch, kick. Hit, punch, kick. Hit, punch, kick. Except, suddenly the hits, punches and kicks were no longer being felt. Bruce heard the blows landing but didn’t feel them on his tender flesh, instead he heard pained cries springing from the mouths of his tormentors.

Still, Bruce stayed curled up in a fetal position. Probably a hallucination from the concussion he was sure he’d gotten. That had happened before after all, his taunter’s were probably taking a break and his brain was turning to mush. Also, not news.

But then he heard the familiar voice, loud as always but quieter than usual with concern and a hint of tentativeness laced into it,”Bruce?”

At the sound of Thor Odinson’s questioning tone, Bruce forced his eyelids open. Sure enough the Norwegian sixteen year old had his concerned eyes trained on him.

\---------------

Thor looked down at his friend in a way that he hoped didn’t radiate pity, something he himself hated from others when he felt he had the entire world on his shoulders (which, by the way was far too often). 

Bruce remained in a curled up, fetal position seeming to be unknowing of his presence. Thor’s brow furrowed in concern as he asked tentatively,”Bruce?”

He saw the flinch that came with the single word. Thor didn’t know how he was to handle this; he’d never dealt with this type of situation before. Sometimes his friends, and even his brother would have their moments; but none of them had ever been battered and bruised and curled up into a ball looking like they’d rather be dead.

Thor frowned as Bruce continued to ignore him though,”Bruce, I believe we should engage in a thorough examination to make sure that you have not broken or bruised any bones.”  
Not even a flinch this time.

“Banner?” increasingly concerned, Thor bent down and placed a hand on his friend’s back, he believed it was a comforting gesture. However, the simple touch caused a reaction that Thor didn’t believe this technique would have resulted in.

The sixteen year old’s back had tensed up as soon as Thor’s hand brushed the fabric of his torn up shirt. Before Thor knew it, Banner was on his feet and had swung a fist at his face that landed right on Thor’s nose. Thor saw stars for a second and his nose ached horribly (though he could tell it wasn’t broken). Only a small trickle of blood escaped from his proboscis and Thor watched as Bruce’s ratty coat whipped around the corner.

\-----------------

He knew. Thor knew. Soon everybody would know. Bruce tried to swallow down his panic, pinching his bleeding nose despite the pain as he quickly went down the street, hoping to get home as soon as possible. Everybody would know what a weak, stupid, pathetic excuse of a human he was.

It was just like his father had said all those years ago when the word Bruce heard most often was “Freak”. They would all leave him now, because he was weak. Because he couldn’t stand up to a teenage bully. Because he had nightmares that made him wake up screaming and he couldn’t control his own emotions. Because he might become an angry ball of rage that could be close to fatal if he saw red for long enough. 

Soon he was far, far, far away from the school; and nowhere near the home he desperately wanted, needed to be at. He couldn’t get enough breath in, insults and put-downs and all other self deprecating terms were racing through his mind. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

Bruce pulled himself into a nearby alley he scanned sloppily before sitting on the muddy pavement with his back against a dumpster. He tried to focus on not hyperventilating, he really did but words like “FREAK!” and “WORTHLESS!” echoed through his mind, and flashbacks came flooding back.

Four year old Bruce Banner sat on the couch with Rebecca Banner, feeling sleepy as she read about short little men with big hairy feet and elven princes and a big eye that was trying to get a ring.

Bruce liked it then his mother read to him, she didn’t usually get a chance but since Daddy was gone tonight, she decided to take advantage and spend time with her only child. Bruce was now resting his head on his mother’s lap, she ran a gentle hand through the curl’s of his hair and a content smile began to cross his face.

That all ended when a sharp ‘BANG!’ rung out through the air and Brian Banner stood just outside the now open front door. The dazed look in his eyes and the stumbling and clumsiness in his motions told Bruce all he needed to know.

“C’mere you l’ttle shit.” Brian spoke, slurring his words.

“Brian.” Rebecca said cautiously, instinctively moving an arm in front of Bruce, showing her protective maternal instincts.

“Shuddup bitch!” Brian hollered, anger present in his tone, and raising a hand threateningly. Rebecca flinched, as he of course knew she would,”Gimme m’ son ‘Becca.” 

“You’re drunk Brian, you’ll hurt him!” Rebecca said, surprisingly brave for the years of abuse she’d suffered at the hands of the man she loved.

“THAT’S M’ FUCKING INTENTION WOMAN!” Brian thundered, without missing a beat, he yanked Bruce by the arm, away from the protection that was his mother. Bruce whimpered at the pain that his father’s fingernails were doing to his skin.

“‘M gonna t’ch you what real pain f’ls like, freak!”

\-------------------------

No, no, no, no, no. He wasn’t there, he was here, in an alley in front of a dumpster. Bruce tried to exhale a breath to calm himself down but all that came out was a loud sob. He was starting to easily pull breaths back into himself again, but tears still streamed down his face and he quietly sobbed.

Why couldn’t he have one fucking decent day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions and flashbacks of Child Abuse, bullying


	3. Chapter 3

Steve was preparing for the weekly movie night when Thor called.

Movie night, though it was never called a sleepover - always ended up being one. Preparations actually did take a long time so usually, every Friday after Steve got home he would start preparing for the night to come. 

Preparations usually included making bowls of popcorn, melting butter and taking out the salt, cleaning the house (even though it was usually pristine due to Sara Rogers’s vigilant cleaning), doing the laundry, making sure the wifi was working, making dinner (as Steve’s mother would say she wouldn’t have them living off of cheap corn kernels) and taking out everyone’s favorite blanket and putting them on their spots. 

Everyone did actually have a favorite blanket, absurd as it may seem. Tony’s was a thick, red and cotton blanket stained with many splotches that included applesauce, syrup and acrylic paint that dated back to Steve’s early childhood; Bruce’s blanket was pretty simple - it was a dark purple blanket of satin only big enough to fit from his waist down to his feet, but that was how he liked it. Thor’s blanket was also made of cotton and was borderline girly, funny as it was because of his obvious manliness - it was a neon blue color with cartoon pink pigs bouncing on rainbows and clouds. Natasha’s “blanket” wasn’t really a blanket at all - instead it was a simple and efficient black sleeping bag with pockets, a screen, an opening on both ends and an internal pillow. She never slept on the built in pillow. Clint also had a purple blanket, however it was a lighter shade and had a bow and arrow borderline - Clint usually ended up kicking the blanket off before he went to bed though, so Steve saw little point of it. Still, Clint insisted on it every night. As for Steve - his blanket of choice was a woolen red, white and blue 9-foot long cover. 

Steve was just laying down all of the said blankets when he’d heard his phone belt out the national anthem (a ringtone that Tony and Clint had changed a few months ago as a prank but one that Steve still couldn’t figure out how to reverse). Still holding Tony’s blanket, Steve strode over and checked the number - eyebrows raising when he noticed the number belonged to Thor. 

He didn’t normally get a lot of calls from the foreign boy - as he was worse with technology than Steve was (and that was saying something) and, on the rare occasion Thor did call Steve it usually ended up being a mistake. 

Steve reluctantly put Tony’s blanket on the nearest armchair and took the call. Only to be met by eardrum shattering, frantic, static-y screaming.

“Thor!” Steve cried,”Bring the volume down, I can’t make out anything you’re saying.”

The line went quiet for a moment before the foreign student began talking again,”I have urgent news concerning our comrade Bruce Banner.” Thor paused,”I was returning from a marvelous football session when I found our friend in a corner being pounded upon by four spineless cowards. They were shouting insults and kicking him.”

Steve felt concern and panic begin to rise in him,”Thor, where’s Bruce now?”

“I am afraid I do not know - after I took care of the bullies, he began to whimper so I placed my hand on his back, in a way I thought comforting. However, friend Banner pulled away and sprinted down the corridor, I was in shock for a moment but when I went in his direction, I found nothing.”

“OK Thor.” Steve said, alarm overwhelming now,”Keep looking for him - I’m going to call everyone else.”

Without letting the Norwegian answer, Steve hung up and immediately dialed Tony - no response,”For goodness sakes…” Steve muttered, tapping his foot anxiously.

The second time he called, Tony picked up, he sounded groggy and annoyed.

“The hell, Steve? I don’t have to come over till six.”

 

Steve filled Tony in. By the end of it the son of a billionaire seemed more frantic than Steve and from what Steve could hear was dashing around the house and yelling for Jarvis. Satisfied, Steve hung up.

Within thirty minutes Natasha, Clint, Sam and Rhodey were all filled in and sent to search for the missing teen. 

 

Natasha and Clint had received the news right after one another, and by the time Natasha had hung up Clint was outside, waiting.

There was silent agreement between them as she sat down in the passenger seat of his surprisingly well kept Ford. 

Natasha looked out the window, her eyes scanning for any sign of their friend as Clint steadily drove, something akin to worry in his eyes. Natasha was only a bit better at hiding her concern - but she had been taught that. And Clint hadn’t been taught hide his emotions, he’d taught himself to.

 

The first place Tony checked was Bruce’s aunts - he doubted that his best friend would be in such an obvious place, but he checked nonetheless.

Bruce’s aunt seemed very concerned when she had found the teenager knocking frantically on her door. She had asked what was wrong and if Tony was alright, Tony had ignored her questions and had asked if Bruce was there.

Lisa Banner’s forehead had knit together in confusion,”Bruce?” She’d asked,”No I’m afraid not, why-”

With that Tony had sprinted back down the stairs to his car and waiting driver.

“Try the cafe.” Tony said breathlessly.

 

Sam didn’t know Bruce that well, only that he was a nice but quiet kid that hung out with Steve and his friends. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to help - he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he found Banner though. 

Still, he checked all the alley’s and typical places where rats scurried and prostitutes looked for money. 

Sam was exploring yet another alley when he heard the sound of a silent sob, cautiously - he peaked around the corner of a dumpster and found… a homeless druggie.

Sighing, Sam pulled away from the dumpster and didn’t bother to check the rest of the alley.

 

Betty Ross was having a normal enough day. She’d gone to school, stayed afterwards for a math club - stayed another thirty minutes and studied with Darcy before beginning her walk home.

Betty enjoyed walking home, unlike most people in her grade who disliked it. She enjoyed going through town, and would often greet people around town and sometimes help out those who she recognized such as Jack Murdock after one of his fights, Scott Lang if he’d gotten in trouble with the police again or Heimdall if he was trying to help assert order. 

Her favorite thing to do though probably, was to give the leftovers of her lunch to those in need, usually the homeless population. She couldn’t stand to watch them suffer. When she heard the stifled sound of crying coming from a nearby alley, she knew she had to help. 

Her father often advised her not to help these people saying they’d “brought what was happening on themselves” but Betty tended to ignore those comments. Thaddeus Ross also liked to explain in graphic detail what could happen to her if one of the homeless turned out to be a psycho. 

That’s why she carried around pepper spray, Betty was pretty sure that had more to do with Darcy’s paranoia though.

Betty cocked her head inside the alley, cautiously surveying the area, hand on the pepper spray inside her bag,”Hello?”

The crying stopped.

Betty hesitated, that could be a bad sign, still she decided to persist,”Hello? I know you’re there, if you need food or medical assistance I can help.”

Not really, if they wanted medical assistance she’d probably just walk whomever it was to the nearest ER… and maybe pay for them, or tell them her father would.

Frowning, Betty strained her ear through the silence to see if she could pick anything up, all she could hear was the meows of alley cats though. 

Going against her better judgement, Betty decided to continue into the alley and head for the dumpster that somebody may very well be hiding behind.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” She tried to say reassuringly,”I just want to help you.”

No response.

But then - a hesitant voice asked,”Betty?”

Then she realized, she recognized that voice,”Bruce?”

 

A ring came from Tony’s mobile.

The playboy uncharacteristically scrambled for the device, not bothering to check the number he picked up,”Hello?” he asked anxiously. He hoped it was news on his fellow science bro.

“Hello?” came a hesitant, feminine voice from the other side,”Umm… Bruce told me to call this number? Is this Tony?”

“Bruce is with you?” Tony asked, a wave of relief coming over him,”Oh thank god… I mean, yes I’m Tony. This is Tony. Uh… who are you?”

“It’s Betty Ross from school.” came the voice again, Tony recognized that name - it was Bruce’s friend who was one of the few who could calm him when he was angry.

“Oh. How… how is he?”

“Not so good.” Betty admitted over the phone,”I brought him back over to mine but I’m pretty sure he’s having flashbacks. What the hell happened to him?”

Tony bit his lip,”I’m not entirely sure. Steve - you know Steve right? Well Steve called me because Thor called him because he’d found Bruce backed in a corner with three sadists beating the shit out of him. I’m not sure if it was the first time or the fiftieth, but afterwards he bolted and a bunch of us have been scouring town for him.”

A brief silence.

“I see.”

More silence.

“Can I come over?” Tony asked reluctantly, he didn’t want to intrude but he had to make sure his friend was alright.

He could hear the girl chew on her fingernails from the other side of the phone,”I’m not sure if my dad would allow it - Bruce being here has already put him in a temper tantrum.”

“I’m coming anyway.” Tony said rudely.

“But-”

“I’ll sneak in. I’m doing whatever it takes to get to Bruce, I need to make sure he’s all right.”

A hesitant silence; then,”Don’t bring anyone else - come in through the second floor window on the right side of the front door.”

 

Betty anxiously paced left and right as she waited for Tony Stark’s arrival. Bruce had drifted off to sleep on top of her bed, and she worried that any moment the sleep would become troubled and she’d have to deal with a panic attack.

She bit her lip, if her father found out she was letting random boys into her room; she’d be in big trouble. Big trouble. 

A knocking on her window almost made Betty fall over. She recognized Tony Stark’s worried face staring at her through the window and hurried to let him in. As he looked ready to yell she put a finger to her lips and gave him a quiet “Shh!” before nodding in the direction of their friend.

Tony hurried over, and tripped over a box. A resounding thud went through the room and Stark hissed - pulling himself into a fetal position and rubbing at his ribs. Betty glanced worriedly at Bruce, who seemed to have moved a little but seemed to be going back to his deep sleep. 

“Betty?”

She immediately went on high alert,”Sorry dad, I tripped!”

“Did Banner wake up?”

“Luckily no, he just shifted in his sleep.”

“Be more careful darling.”

“Yes papa.”

Thaddeus seemed to have gone back to whatever he was doing before. Releasing a breath of relief, Betty turned to face Stark - ready to (quietly) crack down on him. However, seeing the pained look on his face as he held a hand over his abdomen she stopped herself from berating the genius.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Fine, just hit my ribs the wrong way.”

Hesitantly, Betty let it go. Stark was back on his feet - walking more gingerly now towards Banner.

“Can I wake him up?” Stark asked.

Betty was a bit startled that the arrogant prick that was Tony Stark was actually asking permission for something but replied,”I don’t think that’s wise. That’s probably the number one way to give him an anxiety attack, best let him wake up on his own.”

Tony just nodded, then he frowned at Bruce’s face - seeing developing bruises all over,”Do you have anything to treat these?”

Betty shook her head,”No, sorry. We don’t even have aspirin.”

Tony nodded and went back to watching Bruce. After a short silence asked,”Are you sure I can’t tell them Bruce is here?”

Betty sighed in exasperation,”Stark, it’s a stretch letting you in here - if my dad finds you, a random boy in my room then I’d be grounded for life. More of you and god knows what would happen.”

“Oh I don’t know.” Stark said playfully,”I like to think of myself as a rare specimen. Not random, after all I am a genius, billionaire and playboy working on attaining their second PhD.”

“Very interesting.” Betty said dryly.

Another stretch of silence, this time uncomfortable. Stark continued to stare at Banner. Betty decided to take her eyes off of Banner and instead focus on the young teenager. His eyes were tired but filled with a deep affection for the boy who lay before him. It seemed to Betty a bond beyond friendship, it seemed more like brotherhood.

Stark, as far as she knew was an arrogant prat who cared nothing for anyone; however, looking at how he rubbed his hands together anxiously, tapped his foot and chewed his cheek as he watched Bruce filled with worriment made Betty question everything she knew about Anthony Stark. 

She was starting to realize that who Tony was to the world was a mask, something to protect him from the rest of the world, a mask carved out of iron. However, even iron could be broken and cracked - and there were dents and scratches if you got closer. Betty was getting closer, and she was beginning to find the cracks, dents and scratches. 

Betty just wasn’t sure she wanted to know what was under all the armor.

 

“It’s getting late.” Clint said pointedly.

Natasha ignored him.

“Natasha.”

“Tash.”

“We’ve still got a couple hours at the least.” The red head replied shortly.

A frustrated sigh came from the sandy-haired boy,”Tash, it’s almost ten. You aren’t much use to Bruce if you end up crashing into some ditch and bleeding out.”

“I’m capable of driving in the dark, Clint.”

“Don’t play that game with me Nat. I’m as concerned for Bruce as you are, but he’s not going to appreciate you staying up for twenty-four hours straight and probably end up getting so delirious that you fall asleep at the wheel.” 

“I’m not going to fall asleep at the wheel. You know better than anyone how high my tolerance is for lack of sleep.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Exactly. The point is finding Bruce, Clint.”

“Nat-” Clint began, but Natasha was done with his fussing.

“Look, Barton. If you don’t think I can handle driving a car when it’s a little dark out, and you think I’m going to abandon my friend when he’s in need than you don’t know me. If you want to go home, fine - but once I find Bruce, scared, alone, and you aren’t there; I doubt he’ll want to stay your friend. I know I don’t want to be friends with somebody who walks out on people. Then again that’s nothing new for you, is it?”

Clints face was white as a sheet. Natasha immediately regretted what she’d said. He didn’t say another word for the rest of the drive. Neither did Natasha.

 

Bruce stirred. 

Bettys’ eyebrows raised in surprise before she hurried over to the sleeping, curly haired teen,”Tony!” she hissed as she nudged the snoring genius on her way.

Tony groaned and lifted his head from his elbows, his hair disheveled and drool on the side of his face,”What now, Lizzie?”

“I never should’ve told you my first name.” Betty grumbled as she took a stool to Bruce’s bedside,”I think Bruce is waking up.”

Tony snapped away from his playful bantering and scooted his chair away from Betty’s desk and closer to her bed where Banner lay.

“Bruce?” Betty called softly.

A small movement, Banner’s eyebrows knit together slightly and his eyes squeezed noticeably. A moan. 

“I know you’re awake, sleepyhead.” she murmured as she cautiously ran a hand through Bruce’s curls. 

“Betty.” Bruce muttered, not having opened his eyes, just knowing somehow that it was her, perhaps from her voice.

“Right here.” Betty cooed, and yes - cooed,”Right here. You’re safe now, I promise.”

Bruce's’ hand came from hanging off of the side of Betty’s bed and rested on it on her own. He then laced his fingers through his muttered a simple,”Thank you”.

Stark simply sat in the corner, not quite knowing what to make of what was happening. Just watching with both eyebrows cocked upwards slightly.

 

Steve’s phone rang.

Steve immediately turned away from the bottom of the dumpster he was scouring and checked the contact number, Tony.

He swiped upward to accept the call,”Tony?”

“I have Bruce.”

Instant relief came from those three words. Steve brought a hand to his forehead to rub it and a tired smile found its way across his face,”Thank God. Have you brought him to yours?”

“No.”

“Well can you bring him over here then? I can call the others-”

Steve was interrupted,”I have Bruce, Steve. I’m calming him down alright?” A pause,”Look, it’s going to be a long night. Just… call in the others, I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

“Tony we can come-”

The familiar beep of a disconnected line.

Steve sighed, then he exited out from Tony’s contact number and began the long and trying task to call every other teen out and looking. He groaned when he realized he didn’t have Rhodey’s number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the not so great writing in this chapter. I've been kinda swamped recently, and it's taken a toll on my performance; I'll try to get the next chapter up to better standards. 
> 
> Thanks,
> 
> Jiejie


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than usual everyone, sorry about that. Sort of a filler chapter for Thanksgiving reasons, even if you don't celebrate it I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Clint stared at the bare, white wall before him. Simple, plain, devoid of any color. It was like staring into nothingness. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting here - staring at the wall, counting the small bumps along the plaster that kept the radiant white from being a perfect, smooth surface.

After Steve had called, he’d dropped Natasha off at her foster mother’s. He didn’t say her home because she didn’t consider it home - Nat didn’t say exactly what she considered home, and Clint had an inkling she didn’t consider anywhere… home. Nothing was home to her since her parents had died in a fire fourteen years prior. Now, where she lived was… temporary. Not permanent. Not safe. She’d admitted to him once, when she’d drunken too much beer that’d been sneaked into a party, that she felt like she didn’t belong anywhere. The next day she’d sworn him to secrecy, because of course - Natasha Romanoff couldn’t be seen showcasing emotion of all things.

Clint scoffed quietly to himself and made pictures out of the dots littered across the wall. He wish he had his darts, but Sidney, his foster mother had taken them away after he threw one too hard and got it lodged firmly into the ceiling, it was still there.

Sighing, he moved his attention from the plaster wall and ran a hand through his sandy-brown hair, scowling when his hand dislodged one of his hearing aids. Grumbling, he readjusted it. His ear doctor told him not to wear them more than necessary, especially not while sleeping as that could cause further damage - but Clint wasn’t very good at taking orders. 

He’d had too many ear infections to count since Sidney had gotten him his new aids, but he didn’t regret it for a second. Having an ear infection was better than being at the mercy of the world, unaware, oblivious and able to be pounced upon the moment you take the hearing aids out.

Sidney called in paranoia. Clint called it necessary precautions. 

He was fairly certain Sidney and Gordon Walker thought he was crazy - they just felt pity for the poor, damaged, crazy kid. Sighing, Clint recognized the growing bitterness of his thoughts and clenching of his fists. He realized he had to calm himself down.

Clint rubbed at his temple, with both thumbs - one thought on his mind. He really wanted to shoot something.

 

Tony wasn’t sure what to do. The crisis was over, Bruce was safe and in capable hands - probably even more capable than his own. Betty Ross was certainly a wonder with these things. Except, now he had no idea what he should be doing.

He figured, when he’d received the phone call from Betty, that he’d go over to hers. Wake Bruce up, bring him over to his house (hopefully without eliciting Howard’s attention), talk to him as best as somebody-as-horrible-with-emotions-as-Tony-was could and let him stay over, maybe watch a movie or go to Steve’s.

Now, he hadn’t anything to do - Bruce seemed more comfortable with Betty then he ever did with the rest of them; honestly, it made Tony feel a little bitter against the brown haired girl. Still, whatever was best for Bruce. 

About an hour ago, Tony had quietly slipped out of Betty’s window while she and Bruce had been watching a movie - something a bit ridiculous for teenagers to watch, Tony was pretty sure it was a looney tunes movie. 

Honestly, he loved looney tunes but he wasn’t about to admit that. 

After jumping out the window, Tony had been wandering through town thoughtfully. He knew he had homework to do and diagrams to look over but he pushed that behind him and procrastinated.

It was Friday night, and Tony had the whole weekend. Maybe he should go over to Steve’s anyway; Howard was already expecting him to be gone, as was Jarvis. The thing was, he just didn’t have a bag. 

Shutting that idea down, at least temporarily - Tony stepped into the nearest shop he could find, Baskin Robbins. Immediately the sweet smell of artificial flavoring and sticky tables overwhelmed him. Tony strode over to the array of ice creams, he liked to be simple with his frozen treats. Just one scoop on a cone, none of that fancy banana split junk.

As Tony waited in line, he realized he recognized one of the workers,”Pepper?”

The red head turned away from the cone she was making and spotted Tony immediately. He watched as her face turned from a neutral expression to a look of displeasure.

“Scott would you take over for me?” Pepper called back after staring at Tony warily for a solid thirty seconds.

Immediately, somebody Tony recognized as Scott Lang, from school walked up graciously and took Pepper’s cone and apologized to the customer before giving Pepper an inquisitive look.

“Tony.” Pepper mouthed at him.

Scott’s mouth formed an “O” before turning back to his job.

Tony watched the exchange with annoyance. Pepper strode over to him, an irritated look on her face but wow. She looked hot in that uniform.

“What do you want, Stark.” Pepper asked, hands on her hips,”Make it snappy because I have to get back to work.”

“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like this?” Tony winced as the words rolled off his tongue.

Pepper rolled her eyes,”I have a boyfriend Stark.”

Tony scowled,”So you always say, you never have one though. It’s just an excuse.”

Pepper glared at him for a minute before she stomped over to Scott and attacked his lips with vigor. Tony’s jaw dropped and Scott looked flustered but pleased, the customer seemed to be seething. 

Pepper gave Tony one last look before returning to help Scott with the ice cream. Suddenly not feeling hungry, Tony exited the store.

A new whirlwind of thoughts now swirled in his mind, so much for clearing his head. It seemed Pepper could have anybody but Tony, he thought bitterly. On the flipside, Tony didn’t want anybody except for Pepper. Lovely Pepper with her blazing red hair, fiery yet calm attitude, green eyes you could get lost in - and not to mention those buttocks…

Why would she get together with somebody like Scott Lang? He was boring. The only interesting thing he’d ever done was go to court for stealing from Alexander Pierce. Which was not hot in any way. Plus, Pepper didn’t need a felon - she needed somebody strong, and rich. Somebody who would treat her like a goddess. Somebody like Tony. Scratch that - not somebody like Tony, actually Tony.

 

Bruce and Betty were sprawled out on Betty’s bed - eyes glued to the television as the credits rolled. Looney Tunes: Back in Action had been an interesting movie to say the least. Instead of the classic 2D style, it had been turned into a more modern 3D animation, but that seemed the only difference to separate the 2003 movie from the original cartoons. The humor was the same, most of the voices were the same, and it still had both of them cracking up. Well there was also the plot and fact that live humans were in it to make it seem less like the classic but...

“That was good.” Bruce said, grinning as he put a hand in the empty popcorn bowl,”Wait, are we out of popcorn?”

Betty laughed,”We’ve been out for twenty minutes, Bruce.”

“Oh.” Bruce said, not really seeming to care,”Do you have anything else?”

A laugh,”You really like Looney Tunes don’t you?”

Bruce flushed but added,”I meant food.”

Betty hummed thoughtfully and sat up,”We have carrots.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow and asked, completely seriously,”Do you normally have carrots while watching movies?”

Betty could only just contain herself from giggling, she was realizing that Banner was extraordinarily bad at reading social cues,”No, I usually eat popcorn with milkduds.”

Bruce frowned,”I didn’t see any of those in with the kernels.”

“You’re a vegeterian aren’t you?”

“There isn’t meat in caramel.” Bruce said, an eyebrow raised ever-so-slightly.

“Huh.” Betty frowned,”Well I knew that marshmallows had gelatin so I figured to play it safe.”

“I suppose.” Bruce said thoughtfully, before adding,”I can eat Milk Duds though.”

“I realize that now.” Betty said, smiling.

A comfortable silence rested between them. Betty looked at Bruce, his eyes twinkling behind his wire-rimmed glasses, his black hair loosely falling over his eyes, having grown into an almost mullet in the back. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the overwhelming urge to lock lips with this broken yet perfect boy emerged. 

Immediately, Betty pushed this urge down to the bottom of her conscious and was mystified by herself. Mystified, but not horrified, somehow the thought of kissing Bruce seemed right. Still, Betty wrestled with that thought, she didn’t want to take advantage of a broken soul. She also didn’t want to ruin her and Bruce’s already precarious friendship

She forced herself to look away from the fellow fifteen year old. Betty worried that if she spent another moment looking over his features that she’d smooch him dead on the spot. Instead - she excused herself to get some more popcorn, Bruce, oblivious to her inner turmoil, smiled and nodded before sitting up and picking up an abandoned book.

 

Steve woke up to an empty house. It felt odd. He was incredibly confused when he woke up at 10, having slept in. Every Friday night since the movie night tradition had begun the former year Steve had been awokened at a random point in the night or at least by six in the morning. Maybe Tony was writing on his face again, Bruce might’ve tripped on somebody, Thor snoring might reach a horribly loud level, Clint - who refused to sleep on these nights would watch movies sometimes so loud due to an issue with his hearing that it’d wake Steve up, or sometimes Natasha’s fitful sleep would turn into full on nightmares that would wake everybody up when she started screaming.

The fact that he’d gotten a good and full nights sleep left him nothing short of bewildered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no rights involving any of the mentioned characters or anything else even vaguely Marvel related.


	5. Chapter 5

Happy Christmas Everyone.

It had been almost a week since the frantic search for Bruce Banner had occurred. The fifteen year old still hadn’t shown up to school, nor had he answered any member of his friend groups texts. 

Tony Stark’s mind had been filled with both worry and dread of his friend and his inevitable return to Marvel High since he’d said goodbye to Banner at Betty Ross’s home. Worry for his friends state of wellbeing, as well as the possible strain on their friendship; due to the revelation on how Bruce had been treated by his peers. Dread for a similar reason, not wanting to see how the aftermath would make things awkward - Tony didn’t excell at fixing relationships, instead they tended to get worse when he stuck his nose in them.

His relationship with Pepper was the perfect example.

It was another day of Science Club, Mr. Selvig was rumored as to be giving them large projects today. Tony was going to be unhappy if this news proved to be true because it meant he’d probably end up working with somebody he hated, mildly disliked or didn’t know at all. Who knows, he might end up with Darcy Lewis of all people. 

Tony had exited the familiar black limousine, being all but thrown at by the aggravated driver (he’d been playing Christian rock at full blast in the car, simply because he knew that the driver was a starkly irreligious person. He had been feeling rebellious after Howard had left for a week long business trip and Tony finally felt like he could breathe in the general vicinity of Stark Manor.)

Giving a smugly arrogant glance at the driver, Tony began to make his way into the building, walking down the hallways. He gave a few glances to the “Pepper Potts for Student Body President” posters throughout the corridors. He found himself trying to find out who her running mate was but pulled his curiosity back, it’d be best if he didn’t know.

Eventually, Tony was standing in front of the science lab, a few minutes early believe it or not. While Tony was a naturally tardy person, the combined efforts of Jarvis and his driver got him to school early more often than not.

Waiting outside the classroom, Tony let his mind wander. His search for Bruce and staying at the Ross’s for a few hours had insured that the blueprints he was supposed to be working on had been finished late. 

It was still hard to stand up straight even a week later due to the amount of pain the healing lacerations could cause. Howard seemed to be getting worse lately, with what he’d inflicted on his son as of late.

It may have to do, Tony reflected, with how his mother had walked out on him about a month back. Tony expected her to come back sooner rather than later, after all Maria Stark breathed money; however, Howard actually was hurt by his wife leaving him. 

Unlike the mutual hate between Howard and his son, Tony’s father genuinely seemed to love Maria. Tony was sure that she’d only married Howard for his money though. 

The day she’d walked out was the day that Howard had first drawn blood from Tony. Now, whenever Howard came storming home home, instead of the quiet acceptance that he’d come to know, every day sparked a new fear in Tony. Tony was starting to worry that Howard no longer knew any limits, and one day Jarvis would walk into his room to find him dead.

Swallowing heavily, Tony took a shaky breath. Stark men were made of iron and despite his father’s thoughts, Tony would uphold that tradition.

A tentative hand on his arm broke him from his thoughts. Connected to that arm was a sheepish, worried looking Bruce Banner.

“Bruce!” Tony said in surprise, he hadn’t expected the curly-haired boy to show up today, much less to science class. 

“Hi Tony.” Bruce’s chocolate orbs desperately avoided his piercing brown eyes.

Tony opened his mouth, but before another word could be said between them; Mr. Selvig ushered everybody (there was a crowd outside the classroom by now) into the science lab.

Tony found it hard to concentrate on Selvig’s lecture today. The former scientist usually found a way to make things that would normally be boring sound interesting - however today the only thought on Tony’s mind was Bruce.

More than once both boys had caught the one staring at the other.

Tony also took note that Bruce, who wasn’t sitting in his usual spot next to him; was sitting next to Betty Ross and a fresh wave of jealousy fell over him.

Was everybody he cared about eventually to be stolen from him? Pepper, taken by Scott. Now Bruce by Betty and Tony knew that Jarvis was a stone’s throw away from being fired.

“Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark.” 

Tony snapped from his bitter reflection and turned to face Selvig, who seemed slightly flustered and a bit annoyed.

“Yes?” Tony asked in the most nonchalant tone possible.

“What’s the answer to the question I just asked you?”

“Uh, let’s see… Coulson. I think that you and him would click perfectly, why don’t you go ask him out now? I’d pay to see the two of you in bed.” Tony answered with a deadpan face.

Some giggles seemed to come from Tony’s audience and much to Tony’s delight, the tips of Selvig’s ears turned red. Tony’s mind smiled when it saw that Bruce had cracked a small amused grin.

Selvig, a teacher who hadn’t a bone of disciplinary in his body, just went right back to teaching and didn't talk to Tony again. Tony found himself tuning the professor out again though and when, before the bell rang people started getting up he was confused, even more so when Bruce began to stride towards him.

“Do you uh… want to be my partner?” Bruce asked when he reached the genius. 

“For what?” Tony asked.

“You know,” the bespeckled teen said, shifting uncomfortably on his feet,”For the AI project Selvig was talking about.”

“Oh.” Tony said, chewing his lip in hesitation, then asking,”Wouldn’t… wouldn’t you rather do that with Betty?”

Bruce looked rather flabbergasted,”We’re science bro’s, aren’t we? Betty and I are friends but we’re brothers Tony.”

Tony wrestled with a smile before letting it out,”Right. Let’s get to work than.”

No exchange of thanks were given, nor was there any more awkwardness, neither were needed. The two boys had reconciled and things seemed right in their corner of the world

 

Clint set Natasha’s breakfast down on the hood of his purple Ford before he hesitantly made his way to the Mellanby household. Standing contemplatively on the doorstep for a good five minutes, eventually the teenage archer knocked on the door. 

Within a few minutes a middle aged brunette haired woman opened the door, hair up in a messy bun and looking as though she’d just woken up. 

“Alicia.” Clint nodded.

Alicia Mellanby gave Clint a cautious look, uneasy because she felt she couldn’t trust him. Honestly, she was right not to, he knew that she’d read his file.

Giving Clint the wary look for a few more seconds, Alicia eventually turned slightly inward and called into the house,”Natasha, Clinton’s here.”

Clint cringed at the use of his full name and looked into the house worriedly. He knew that Natasha knew he was outside, she knew everything before everyone, she was as conscious of her surroundings as he was, if not more so. The question was if she was going to see him. They hadn’t talked in a week since their fight, and the lack of having somebody to lean on, the only person who knew what he knew and had been through what he had; was making things hard. 

He had found himself becoming more paranoid than usual, somebody no longer had his back. His hands had begun to shake and nightmares visited him every night. He hadn’t sent her a text and she hadn’t sent him one, they hadn’t been able to calm one another down from panic attacks. 

Clint had been in the archery range more often than usual and his forearms hurt horribly so the long sleeves he always wore to cover his scars, were hell to deal with.

He needed her and he was sure that she needed him. While passing each other in the hallways he’d seen the bags under her eyes and how she hardly touched her food at lunch.

They were both at fault for how the fight had gone down and neither had made a move to reach out; now Clint was and he was disturbed by how much he needed her. How much Nat kept him grounded. 

He, while immersed in thoughts, still kept a steady eye on the scene unfolding before him and wasn’t unaware when Nat turned up in the doorway and Alicia quietly slipped away after giving him one more look.

Nat stared at him through the doorway, her green eyes showing a rare display of emotion,in them there was worry, apology and fatigue. Clint knew his own eyes mirrored the same and seeing her made him feel sorry that he hadn’t come sooner. She might look fine to a random onlooker but to Clint it was obvious that she was suffering a fair amount. 

“I-” Clint barely got out.

Nat propelled herself forward, closing her eyes and leaning her head against his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. Clint was shocked at first but let his own arms fall to hold her. 

“I’m sorry.” came the muffled voice of Natasha, the emotion in her voice reverting it to sound more russian than normal.

“Me too.” Clint said quietly,”Let’s never fight again.”

“Agreed.” Nat said, pulling herself from his chest. Flushing now seemingly embarrassed she’d shown emotion. 

Clint found himself searching her eyes,”Are you OK?”

Nat bit her lip before slowly shaking her head.

“Will you be OK?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

Clint rubbed the back of her hand,”Will you start feeling better if I got you breakfast?”

“Hashbrown and biscuit?”

“On my car.”

 

Lunch proved to be surprisingly normal affair for the small group of friends that was Steve, Tony, Bruce, Thor, Clint and Natasha. Everything just seemed to fall right into place and everyone seemed to make up around the same time.

Steve found it more normal than it had been for quite awhile and everyone seemed more relaxed than usual. Natasha and Clint (who’d been fighting for reasons unbeknownst to anybody) were the most noticeable because while both scanned the area of the cafeteria, both seemed content to trust the other. 

In addition, Bruce had shown up to school again and seemed to be better than ever. 

The only variation from what was considered to be the group’s “normal” was the presence of Betty Ross. It seemed that she and Bruce had become friends, Steve had never noticed them hanging out before but Tony had told him that Bruce was at her home so it wasn’t completely out of the blue.

Well, there was another thing, Steve supposed. After school today, he’d be trying out for the school football team. He had been dead set on it as he was every year, even though he continued to fail to get on the team every year. His asthma hadn’t gotten better over the past year and he was scrawny as ever, but he wouldn’t let that stopped him.

Sam had agreed to help Steve out over the past few weeks as he was one of the fittest people (bested only by Thor) Steve knew. Not to mention was the captain and pitcher of the Marvel Football team, as well as the goalie on the soccer team. 

However, despite training with Sam, Steve still felt that he wasn’t doing very well; he’d never exactly been physically outstanding anyway though.

He could hardly eat due to the nerves though, just thinking about tryouts made him feel ill. Bruce and Thor got in on a shared effort of trying to get Steve to eat but all of their nagging succeeded in only a small sip from the milkshakes his nutritionist had been advising him to drink everyday.

“For God’s sakes.” Tony had said overhearing Steve’s conversation with Bruce and Thor,”If you don’t eat food you’ll keel over in the middle of tryouts; asthma aside.”

Somehow these were the most helpful and sincere words that Steve had heard all day.

In addition the worry over the tryouts, a second reason for his panicked state had to do with the fact that he was trying out at all. Kids with asthma weren’t really allowed to play sports because the school board didn’t want to get sued, yet Steve was trying out nonetheless. However, Steve was the classic goodie-two-shoes student and was having difficulties with the moral implications of what he was going to do. 

Clint and Natasha seemed detached from the drama unfolding before them, it probably seemed insignificant to the two of them; and it really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things if he made the team or not. It was really quite petty to be worrying over such a thing, when others were worrying over when the next meal would be served, Steve reflected.

 

The day seemed to go as normal as normal could be for Steve, the only problem that he had was keeping himself normal. He fingered his inhaler all throughout the day, English a blurr and PE (in which he had to sit out from most things) pretty much the same. Before Steve knew it, homeroom had come and gone and the final bell had rung.

It was time for him to make his descent to the football field. 

Steve felt a dryness in his mouth and butterflies in his stomach as he made his way down the foyers of the 700s building. He walked down the concrete stairs to the football field and his nerves returned when he saw many boys, most larger and stockier than him standing and conversing, many throwing footballs to each other or talking about girls. Steve felt very out of place.

Sam wasn’t trying out for football as he was currently swamped with baseball and had no particular interest in the spot so he was left to face things on his own. A stray thought crossed his mind, wondering if Bucky would’ve tried out for football. He quickly pushed any reminder of Barnes away though, the last thing he needed to remember right now was the blood, sticky on his hands, Steve hopelessly trying to stop the blood and brain matter from pouring out of Bucky’s skull…

Stop.

Steve took a few deep breaths, worrying over whether he should take the inhaler out of his pocket; if somebody saw him with it his chances were done…

All traces of the panic attack faded though when a whistle, not uncommonly heard around campus came from Coach Hunter who was - surprisingly; accompanied by the office lady, Melinda May.

“Right then!” Hunter shouted,”Let’s get this show on the road boys. I don’t have all day and neither does May; let’s start by ratting out all the worst of you. Three laps, let’s go!”

Steve was worried, running was definitely not his strong suit - but a surge of determination shot through him and he took off with the other boys - all eager to prove themselves. He made sure to be careful about his breath and focused on it as he jogged at a light pace.

About halfway through the second lap, people started to fall behind and May and Hunter gave them horribly piercing glares until they began to jog harder. Then people started dropping, they had completed much more than three laps before May and Hunter were happy.

By the time they stopped, Steve’s clothing was soaked with sweat, he guessed they’d ran a good eight laps at the least. Almost twenty-five people had dropped and were being escorted off the field by a hardly-caring Hunter. The coach and May gave them a precious five minutes for a water break and Steve, panting took the risk to take out his inhaler and sucked in a few breaths and felt all the better for it. 

In addition to that he also drank a good fourth of his water bottle and noticed for the first time a group of cheerleaders, already elected, sitting in the bleachers and sending kisses to their boyfriends or giving flirtatious waves to others. Steve looked away from them and gave himself more time to breath.

All too soon the group of remaining boys dragged themselves back to the field where they were ordered to do fifty push ups and twenty-five situps; all carefully monitored by May who seemed merciless when it came to proper form.

Steve wondered why May wasn’t a coach for something but then remembered that she headed girls volleyball. It was no wonder why they always went to state.

Steve was fortunate enough to finish before she could make her way to him though, quite lucky because she’d only stopped to scream bloody murder at a red haired boy who was apparently doing everything “insultingly bad”.

It seemed to take way too long, and another ten people dismissed before the actual football began.

It was mainly scrimaging, and Steve was trying out for the tight end position, he felt he was better suited for quarterback but wasn’t ambitious or foolish enough to think he’d get it. All the big football stars were trying to get quarterback since last year’s had stepped down from his role. Heimdall was the captain and the offensive running back, something rare for a football captain to be. Still, he commanded respect in a way that Steve was sure he had learned from Principal Fury, the most intimidating man on this planet; and one who seemed better suited for the FBI, CIA or military.

Heimdall wasn’t at the football tryouts due to a prior engagement and none of the confirmed other football players had bothered to show up. Not even Thor, though he had an excuse, he had to watch his brother, Loki.

Somehow, in the middle of the second play, Steve ended up with the ball, before he could pass it though, he was immediately tackled. Steve panicked.

He felt he couldn’t breath, he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. His vision started to black as Steve became almost clueless as to how to deal with what was happening. A huddle was growing around him now and May and Hunter were pushing to get through. 

Fighting to get a hold on reality, Steve focused on his breath and his hands unconsciously found their way to his inhaler and he placed it over his mouth. He slowly breathed in and out, calmly and firmly. Looking up at the coaches who had finally squeezed their way through the crowd, he saw fury.

 

“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS, WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU THINKING?”

Steve flinched from the booming noise erupting from his mother’s voice,”YOU COULD HAVE DIED, STEVE! AND FOR WHAT? A FOOTBALL TRYOUT!?”

The full wrath of Sarah Rogers was upon him and even Coach Hunter was beginning to look like he regretted calling her.

“AND YOU!” Sarah exclaimed, jabbing a finger at the PE teacher’s chest,”MY SON COULD HAVE DIED BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T CHECK FOR ASTHMA? DID YOU NOT RECOGNIZE HIM? I SHOULD GET IN TOUCH WITH YOUR SUPERIORS, I KNOW PEOPLE ON THE SCHOOL BOARD!”

Steve tried to cut in,”Mom-”

“NO YOUNG MAN, NOT A WORD FROM YOU. WE ARE HAVING A VERY LONG DISCUSSION ABOUT THIS WHEN WE ARE GOING HOME, VERY LONG STEVEN.” 

Steve’s mother turned again to an ashen Hunter,”THIS CONVERSATION IS NOT OVER!” and with that, dragged Steve to the car like he was a naughty four year old who had been caught stealing a cookie.

 

Thor arrived home at 3:30, having ridden the bus before walking half a mile to his family’s apartment. Well it wasn’t family… not without Frigga at least. A year ago Thor’s mother had been murdered by the man she called her husband, leaving behind two sons and a drunk mob-boss Odin.

Thor was always worried for what he’d see when he arrived home, though he loved football and his other after school activities, they kept him away from Loki, who had nothing to keep him from going home immediately so he had something against them.

Thor might find the place in shambles, a raging drunk that was his father, a gang party or members of the gang that Odin was the boss of, or on the worst days - a beat up brother.

Loki was the one person in the world that Thor cared about the most, he was Thor’s last remaining link to his mother as well as somebody he’d sworn to protect since the day he was born. Thor remembered clearly the day that Loki had been brought home and the little red mess of wrinkles had cracked open two eyelids and stared at him with his not-yet-colored irises.

Thor had fallen in love with his little brother and hated to leave him at the mercy of his father who seemed to have a grudge against him; worse than the one he had against Thor.

It had no point, the grudge and Loki often discussed his theories while Thor was bandaging up his latest injury, seemingly detached from what was happening to him. Thor couldn’t ever remember a time where their little family had ever been content. The only happy memories he had were of him and his raven haired brother - he had some early memories of his sister who had left for college and never looked back at 17, when Thor was 4, but nothing pleasant.

He had some good memories with his mother but those were all tinted with sadness now and his father had always worn down the woman. 

Thor’s discovery this time, upon entering the apartment that they’d lived in for about two years now, was his father drunk and asleep on the couch, snoring loud and obnoxious. He also, however saw the telltale signs of a recent fight between him and Loki as there were the remnants of a smashed wine bottle. Worried, Thor crept past his father’s sleeping form and into the hallway, searching for his brother who had probably gotten back about fifteen minutes earlier.

“Loki!” He hissed,”Where are you? It is your brother.”

At first, there was no sound, which worried Thor further; but eventually he heard a quiet,”Thor?” and made way for the sound.

Thor instantly detected it from coming from Loki’s room.

“Are you alright?”

There was a small pause before Loki shot at him,”I’m fine.” but Thor didn’t believe it for a second.

“Let me see then.”

“I’m doing homework, Thor. Maybe you should think about upping your grade.”

Thor didn’t bother to point out that the majority of his grades were higher than Loki’s. That probably had to do more with his work ethic than smarts if he was honest though.

“Loki.” Thor tried to make his voice sound final; a silence spread between them. He waited at the door for probably ten minutes before Loki finally let out a sigh and Thor heard the clinks of a door unlocking.

Thor stepped back a bit, in order to give his brother some space and also so he could get a good view and assess Loki’s injuries.

He sighed when he saw a swelling bump atop of Loki’s head along with several bleeding cuts on his forehead and cheeks.

“Let’s take care of you, brother.”

Authors Note: I've added a prequel if you want to know about Clint's early life it's on the series page.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been a week since Steve’s disastrous efforts to join the school football team and he was fine, thanks for asking. He was still grounded for an amount of time that only God knew and Sarah Rogers was constantly guilting him about it - but he was fine.

He was proud at himself for giving football a try. He had a twinge of remorse for having broken his mother’s and Coach Hunter’s trust but he was looking into other things.

For example, he’d decided to join the after-school art club on Tuesdays. He’d decided to do so after Betty Ross had suggested it. It was the first Tuesday where he’d be attending, he was joining two weeks late so the club had already had two sessions. Still, Steve enjoyed art and loved to sketch so didn’t mind the setback.

As soon as PE ended, Steve was out of there. He practically ran to the building which housed the art classrooms. 

He took art classes but the instructor was a different art scholar. They introduced themselves as Mr. Johle, Steve was pretty sure he hadn’t seen the glasses wearing man before. He didn’t exactly fit what Steve expected an art teacher to look like; no extravagant clothes or bright colored eyes. In fact he seemed a bit dull in the button down and slacks he wore. 

After Steve introduced himself, Mr. Johle looked over his shoulder and called,”Sharon, come over here!”

Steve watched as a blonde haired girl turned from a conversation she was having and began to make her way over to the teacher and student. Steve had to admit, she was kinda really beautiful. Her hair was shoulder length and blonde and it seemed to float around her oval shaped face. Her eyes were an electric blue and as they fixated on him he felt his stomach flip flop. He wasn’t sure if it was because of intimidation or something else… either way she was or at least seemed to be an alluring force of nature.

Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of her as she reached the spot that Mr. Johle had instructed her to - those dazzling eyes seemed to sparkle with curiosity.

“This is Steven Rogers.” the art instructor said, ignoring or oblivious to the teenager’s eyeing each other,”He’ll be joining this club. Why don’t you show him the rope’s.” with that, the bespeckled man turned on his heel and left the two alone.

“You’re the kid who had an asthma attack trying to make the football team.” it wasn’t a question, but a statement.

Steve nodded nonetheless.

“Give it to me straight - are you actually interested in pursuing this or just trying to make your college resume look good; I’m not going to waste my time if it’s the latter.” her hands were on her hips now and one eyebrow was cocked upwards - she meant business.

Steve tried to be as truthful as possible,”I’m serious about this, don’t worry. I may have tried out for football but I’ve been sketching for longer than I’ve been interested in joining activities like that. I’m ready to give this a hundred percent, I can see your only looking to take care of serious artists and I definitely respect that and I’ll give it my best.”

Sharon seemed momentarily taken aback by Steve’s lengthy answer but a smile soon crossed her face,”In that case, welcome aboard, Steven. Glad to have somebody like you in this club for once; sorry for cracking down on you - it’s been a long day and I’ve dealt with too many impassionate people in the past. Why don’t we sit at that table back there and you can show me some of your stuff?”

…………

By the end of the hour long club - Sharon had evaluated his artistry and seemed impressed. She had said that there was definitely room for improvement but he was better than most were when starting out. They’d made plans to meet up the following Tuesday after art at his house so she could give him some pointers. 

It appeared that fate seemed to have turned in a nice direction; a pill hard to swallow had turned into a caramel coated chocolate.

…………

Clint was worried about Tash. He was driving her home as he always did but she had made a surprising request. She’d asked not to be dropped off at home but if she could spend the night. 

Clint, confused had looked at her and noticed for the first time the bags under her eyes. She’d gotten better after their reconciliation but the bags seemed to have returned in less than six days. 

It seemed the demons of her past were rearing their ugly heads and Clint was to be left with whatever broken shell they’d leave Natasha as. Clint was reminded that, while he knew many things that had gone on in Tasha’s horror movie of a life - there were still some things she kept to herself.

Clint knew that none of their friends would be helpful in this situation - he was probably the only one who was going to able to right her judging by the hunted look in her eyes.

So of course he said she could stay over. The Walker’s could go die in a hole, Nat was so much more than them.

They pulled into Clints’ driveway and he was relieved to see that his guardians had yet to return home. 

He helped Nat out of his Ford and put an arm around her as they made their way to his room. He knew she took everything - probably looking for changes; changes meant potential traps and traps meant the possibility of being compromised. 

“The only thing that’s happened since you were here last is Sidney’s cleaning, Nat. You can relax.” Clint knew that as close as they were, Nat wasn’t going to just take his word for it but he tried nonetheless.

After ascending the staircase and making it into Clints’ hospital-white room the two sat on his bed. Clint sighed and laid down, the darts he’d thrown into the ceiling over his eyes. His eyes looked to Nat, hoping that she’d do a similar thing, he just wanted her to feel safe damnit. She remained sitting however and Clint had to hoist himself back up.

He tilted his head and studied her, he wondered what in this situation would be the best way to get her mind off of whatever memories were plaguing her.

“Do you want to do a bit of hand-to-hand?”

Nat broke from her staring match with the wall and faced him,”Sure, that’d be nice.”

Clint felt a boyish grin coming on and tried to stop it from scaling his face, he knew it was not an appropriate time for such an emotion. Years of practice kept it at bay and he hopped off his bed and made a “come-at-me” motion. He knew it wouldn’t work on Natasha, she could be scarily patient; his red-haired friend did, however stand and got off the bed before striking a fight pose.

The two teenagers circled each other, both wary and knowing of what the other could do. It was a tight space but Clint had fought in tighter, he decided to make the first hit, he jabbed at her side. Natasha ducked out of the way and made a move to hit his now exposed chest, Clint blocked it with the other hand.

The two backed off from one another again and looked at each other warily but Clint could see a spark in Nat’s eyes and that was better than nothing. Without warning, she dove in at him - a flurry of fists that were a blur all trying to hit him in various places. Clint had a hard time keeping up and had to absorb a few blows before he could grab her wrist. 

Natasha attempted to twist her hand from his firm lock but he didn’t relent so she decided to end the fight and jumped up, twisting her hand and his arm at the same time as she went and she locked her thighs around his neck. Clint released her wrist in no time and muttered that he yielded. 

He dusted himself off and felt embarrassed that she’d been able to take him down so quick, it was for fun right now but it was obvious he was off his game. So he asked, seeing the small smirk on Nat’s face (and not wanting to admit she’d beat him) “You ready for another round?”.

…………

Bruce looked up at the enormous, well polished estate called Stark manor. It was such a contrast from him and aunt Lisa’s little flat in which you could see only half out of the windows and even then just feet. 

The boy felt incredibly out of place every time he stepped into Tony’s home, Tony had both a butler and personal driver; it was crazy. Bruce hadn’t been to the genius’s in almost a month. It seemed he’d forgotten how grand the Stark estate was, just outdoors. The indoors was impressive as well: holograms everywhere, fancy, expensive and sleek furniture, dozens of awards and the latest tech were scattered stylishly about the entire estate.

Bruce knew that Maria Stark called in an interior designer every 3 months so the design never got old. Tony’s mother was a tasteful decorator herself, but the Stark’s needed the best of everything. It was always a big deal when the Stark mansion was redecorated, and interior designers scrambled to see what Maria and her designer had collaborated into making. Tony always grumbled when the inevitable remodeling took place as he’d have to stay in a hotel for a week or so. Bruce realized as he was granted access into the manor, that the place had been, at least to some extent - redecorated. His brow furrowed as he didn’t remember his younger friend complaining.

Growing slightly concerned, Bruce made his way up two staircases and knocked on Tony’s door. It seemed that in the latest renovation, the boy’s door had been replaced with black wood with a golden knob (formerly it had been patterned white wood with a brass handle). 

Bruce reached out a knuckle and knocked four times on his friend’s door, Tony, contrary to popular belief, appreciated the little privacy he had. Thirty seconds passed before a shuffling sound came from the other side of the wood. Soon enough, the door opened and a tired, red-eyed teenager named Tony Stark stared at him. He looked confused for a moment before he seemed to realize why Bruce was over.

“Shit.” He muttered, opening his door to allow Bruce to enter.

“Why’s that?” Bruce asked as he gazed at Tony’s room, it looked like a war zone.

“Forgot you were coming. I’ll be up late finishing designs for Howard.” The younger teen said, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Exactly how much caffeine are you running on?” Bruce asked.

“Six cups.” Tony said without missing a beat.

Bruce sighed, Steve thought he could be self destructive…

Tony interrupted his thoughts,“We’re working on an AI, right?”

“To an extent” Bruce said, picking up one of the balled up pieces of graph paper that littered his fellow teen’s floor. It seemed to be a theory involving a perpetual motion machine; Tony had scratched most of it out.

“Care to clarify?” Tony asked, taking a seat on his swivel chair while sipping what looked like plain black coffee. Bruce was slightly disgusted.

“Why am I always the one who has to pay attention?” The curly haired boy sighed,”We’re supposed to learn about and build a low-grade AI on a python. Selvig handed out a list of requirements.”

Tony looked bored,”Why can’t we ever do anything interesting? Even checking over Stark designs from 20 years ago provides more stimulus.”

“You were the one who wanted to join.” Bruce responded.

“That’s not an answer.” Tony retaliated, rubbing his temple before shoving some sort of medication down his throat with the help of his coffee.

“How did you manage to get so run down in the four hours since I last saw you?” Bruce wondered aloud.

Tony grinned and replied,”Are you sure it’s only been four hours?”

Bruce smiled good naturedly and sat on the son of a billionaire's bed,”Do you want to see that list?”

Tony shook his head,”No, everything is spinning, just read it out loud.”

“Not going to comment on that.” Bruce replied before starting to read the requirements,”There needs to be at least nine lines of code, it has to be smart enough to do calculus and linear algebra and it has to have a python base code.”

“That's it?” Tony asked after a moment of silence.

Bruce was inclined to bang his head against Tony's repainted desk.

…………

It had been about thirty minutes of mindless chatter, drinking of coffee and obsession over Pepper Potts (the last one was mostly Tony) when Bruce asked about the latest renovation.

“It has to have been within the last month.” Bruce reasoned,”I’m surprised I didn’t see any media coverage.”

Tony looked uncomfortable,”That’s probably because my mom didn’t have much to do with it.”

Bruce frowned, Tony’s mother lived for her decorating,”Why’s that?” 

“Because she isn’t here.” 

What did that mean? What was Bruce supposed to say to that?

“You mean-” He started.

“She left.” Tony said flatly, avoiding eye contact with Bruce - instead focusing on the python coding that was on his screen,”Maybe two weeks ago. She’ll be back though. She always is, she’ll come crawling back and beg for cash. That woman can’t live without her fucking money.”

Tony bitterly slammed the pen in his hand into the wood of his desk, his face was in a snarl as he leaned into his chair. One hand ran through his mop of brown hair as he pivoted left and right.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Tony checked his watch,”You should leave.”

“Tony-”

“Dad’ll be home pretty soon and I have other things to be working on. I’ll call Jarvis to show you out.”

“Tony-”

The fourteen year old was already turned away from his friend and pressing a button. Less than a minute later, Jarvis was standing at the door - stoic as always as he waited for Bruce to pack up.

Bruce hesitantly picked up all of his things, placed them in his bag and followed Jarvis out. He sent one last worried gaze at Tony (who was already engrossed in a missile diagram) before turning to follow Jarvis.

…………

Thor scowled at the sight of his apartment when he returned home. He’d been at football practice and was only now returning home. He didn’t think he’d enjoy today though. There was obviously a party going on, about twenty members of his father’s gang were in the living room - who knew where others were lurking. Judging from the sounds coming from his bedroom, he’d probably want to wash his sheets before going to sleep.

There were boxes and boxes of booze, alcohol and drugs laying casually about. His father was casually chatting with Vili, his right hand man, as he injected what looked like heroin into a vein. A few feet away Hoenir and Aegir were engaged in a violent fist fight involving brass knuckles and shattered beer bottles. 

Thor considered texting Clint, Steve, Bruce or Natasha and seeing if he could stay at one of their houses (Tony made sure early into their friendship that his house was off limits for sleepovers). However, before he could slip back out, Odin spotted him and smiled before gesturing Thor towards him.

It seemed Thor didn’t have much of a choice so he reluctantly moved to Odin’s side. 

“Father.” He said in acknowledgment.

“Thor.” Odin said in return, he opened his mouth to speak more but a loopy Vili interrupted him.

“You want some of this? You want the good stuff, boy? It’ll make you feel good, real good.” Thor felt disgusted but kept it to himself, his father wouldn’t appreciate a loss of temper or level headedness. 

“No thank you, Vili.” He responded coolly. 

Odin, however wasn’t quick to let the interruption slide. He, of course kept his temper as he calmly, almost sociopathically ordered Aegir and Hoenir to stop fighting and beat Vili up until he learned his lesson. Right hand or not, you weren’t safe from the old man’s outrage. 

Thor mutely watched as Vili was kicked to the ground and excused himself from the display and was going to make for Odin’s study when he realized his brother was out and about. It was rare to see Loki involved in this sort of thing and only ever was when Odin forced him; even then it was a chore.

Thor’s curiousity was piqued but a different emotion took over when he realized how uncomfortable his brother looked. Some loon Thor didn’t recognize had his hand on Loki’s inner thigh and he was whispering something into his ear. Thor’s calm demenour disappeared instantly.

The blonde haired boy stalked over to the two and called “Hey!”, the loon was distracted by Thor’s shout and the 15 year old finished his short route and punched the man. 

“The fuck is wrong with you, you little shit!” said the man, rubbing his face, Thor guessed that he’d fight back in a different situation but being a mob boss’s son sometimes had it’s benefits. 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Thor retalliated, in his peripheral vision he noticed Loki slipping away and calmed minutely.

“You’re the one who fucking punched me!” 

“You were asking for it, creep!”

“The hell are you talking about, kid?”

“Don’t let your hands wander again or I’ll make sure Odin knows you’ve been feeling up his son.” Thor said in a low and dangerous voice.

“Are you threatening me?” The man asked incredously.

“What if I am?” 

There was a pause as the two’s eyes stayed interlocked in a glaring competition. The tension was signifigant and just when Thor felt his resolve begin to crumble, the loon looked away.

“Fine.”

It was hard to keep a triumphant smirk off of his face as he turned on his heel and made his way down the hallway. His personality changed quickly as he stood in front of his brother’s door, he hesitated before knocking.

There was no noise on the other side of the door; Thor called out asking if he could be let in but there was still no sound. After trying three more times, he reasoned that Loki wasn’t coming to the door. His brother probably wanted some alone time, Thor would just wait until the people in his room were done before he went to bed.


End file.
